Something Wicked This Way Comes
by rhymenocerous
Summary: Something from Danny's past returns to haunt him, sending his life spiraling out of control. People are dying and he knows its only a matter of time before whoever or whatever it is comes for him. D/L angst. Rated M for violence, language and smut.
1. Something's Just Not Right

**A/N: So, here we are at long last. The angsty new story I've been promising you all for the past few months. Since ****"Mine, All Mine" wrapped up, I've been having a hard time deciding on exactly what story I want to tell, and then suddenly this popped into my head and wouldn't let go. **

**As with some of the other two-shots I've been working on lately ("Trick-Or-Treat" and "Whose Side Are You On"), this one is set earlier on in the D/L timeline – perhaps a month or two after Sleight Out of Hand in Season 3. Basically, I'm assuming that the story follows the show up until that episode, but after that, all bets are off. I'm not promising to stick to the show or anything that does or doesn't happen between Danny and Lindsay from then on.**

**I am so excited to see what you all think of this one, and I've got a lot of ideas on where to go with it and how I want it to play out, so please sit back and (hopefully!) enjoy the ride. **

**Summary: Something from Danny's past returns to haunt him, sending his life spiralling out of ****control. People are dying and Danny knows its only a matter of time before whoever or whatever ****it is comes for him. Can he save himself? And can he open up and let Lindsay be there for him ****in his moment of darkness?**

**Rated: M**

**Warning: ****There will be plenty of violence in this story, possibly torture and lots of other unpleasant things. But there will also be some of the other stuff that you love so much. I promise to add in bits of fluff, and some smut as well at some point. We're going on a journey to a very dark place, and I think those moments will be necessary to keep the story balanced.**

**Oh, and as always, I'll include my little disclaimer that _italics _= flashback.**** That being said, I'll shut up now and let you all carry on with Chapter 1: Something's Just Not Right.**

* * *

Don Flack was not in the mood for this crap. Not at all. He didn't want to be here. He wanted to be back in his warm cozy bed, catching a few more Z's before he was woken up by his alarm clock at a decent hour of the morning.

But no. Instead, he found himself standing in the pouring rain at 4:30 in the morning outside of what could only be described as the seventh circle of hell. The ghetto was filthy, the buildings surrounding him coated in a thick layer of muck and mire and piles of garbage lay strewn about the narrow streets after years of neglect. He pulled his collar up around his neck in an effort to keep at least some of the rain from dripping down his back, knowing full well that it was a wasted effort. He was already soaked to the bone.

He squinted as the bright lights from an approaching vehicle shone in his face, brightening momentarily before darkening as the vehicle's engine was turned off. He watched a solitary figure descend from the crime lab's standard issue Avalanche, an evidence kit clutched tightly in his hand.

He continued to watch as Danny bent to go under the yellow crime scene tape that roped off the forecourt that separated the dilapidated buildings and began walking toward him. Actually, bounded was a more apt description. There was no mistaking the jaunty lilt in Danny's step, and as he neared Flack, he could hear Danny humming softly to himself.

"Mornin' Don," he said. Flack grunted a response, disgusted with his friend's chipper demeanor. "So," Danny said, setting his kit down at his feet and snapping on a pair of latex gloves, seemingly oblivious to the scowl on Flack's face. "Whadya got for me this morning?"

Flack pulled out his notebook, flipping it open and using his hand to try and shield the small sheets of paper on which he had taken detailed notes from the damaging effects of the rain.

"Gunshot victim on the fourth floor of that building there. Pretty nasty," he said. "Looks like the guy was tied up and beaten severely before whoever did this to him finally put him out of his misery."

"Alright," Danny said, grabbing his kit and jogging off toward the building Flack had pointed out. "You coming or not?" he shouted over his shoulder, realizing that Flack was still staring after him.

Flack narrowed his eyes at his friend's retreating back, heaving a sigh of displeasure. How was it that Danny could be so damn cheerful at this godforsaken hour of the morning? He shook his head, quickly catching up to his friend thanks to his taller frame and longer legs.

"What the hell are you so damn happy about this morning?" Flack asked.

Danny turned to him and grinned. "Nothin'."

Flack rolled his eyes. "Right," he said. "Shouldn't you be exhausted?" he asked. "I mean, you were on the late shift last night after pulling a double… you've probably had less sleep that I have. Am I right?"

"Ah, who needs sleep?" Danny asked, clapping Flack on the shoulder.

Flack stared back at his friend. Something was definitely off. It was the middle of the night and Danny Messer was happy… no, scratch that. He was downright giddy.

"Ugh," Flack sighed, shaking the excess water from his hair as they entered the ground floor hallway of the building. "I was kinda hoping to have someone to bitch with about having to show up here at the crack of ass in the morning in the middle of a fucking monsoon. Way to ruin my fun."

"Hey, I'm a happy man this morning, Flack. What can I say?" Danny said, shaking his own head and sending droplets of freezing cold water flying in Flack's direction. "But feel free to bitch all you want. Don't hold back on my account."

He grinned at Flack, giving him a cheeky wink, then took off up the stairs, bounding up them two at a time. Flack sighed and began trudging up the stairs after Danny, at a much slower and more _normal_ pace. He shook his head and let out a grunt of annoyance as he listened to Danny whistling happily to himself as he thundered up the stairs above.

* * *

While he waited for Flack to huff and puff his way up the four flights of stairs, Danny set his kit down beside the body and got to work gathering evidence. He checked the man's pockets, finding them all empty, save for a scrap of crumpled paper that was soaked in what Danny could only presume was the victim's own blood. There was something written on it, but it was too badly damaged to make out the words.

Sitting back on his haunches, he looked over the victim. He could see abrasions on his wrists where he had been bound, the rope or whatever had been used to restrain him apparently having been removed. He grimaced as he looked at the man's face. Flack hadn't been kidding when he'd said the poor guy had been beaten within an inch of his life, his face having been pulverized to the point where Danny felt like he was looking down at a slab of raw meat. Continuing his initial observation of the body, Danny felt his gut wrench when he looked down to see that the man's fingertips had been neatly sliced off, leaving it impossible to identify him by way of fingerprints.

Hearing Flack on the landing outside the apartment door, Danny looked up to see his friend leaning against the wall, his face red and flushed and his chest heaving from his exertion. Despite his gruesome surroundings, Danny couldn't help but grin at Flack. It delighted Danny that his own jubilant mood was such a thorn in Flack's side. He made a mental note to try to be more upbeat every morning, because the entertainment value he got from watching Flack slowly simmer like this was just too much fun.

"Hey, Flack," he said, standing and moving over to where his friend stood by the door. "Glad you finally decided to join me."

"You're a dick," Flack panted and Danny chuckled at Flack's sharp retort. "What the hell is up with you this morning?"

"What? Can't I be in a good mood just because?" Danny asked, a smirk on his face as he began to methodically circle the room, being careful to mind where he stepped so as not to disturb any potential evidence. He heard Flack give a derisive snort and looked up to catch his friend eyeing him suspiciously.

"You and mornings go together like oil and water, Messer," Flack pointed out. "Therefore, putting my substantial detective skills to work, I can only conclude that something happened last night after your shift ended… and I'm pretty sure that something had to do with a girl. Because there's no other reason that I can think of as to why you'd be prancing around here like the goddamn bluebird of happiness at fuck-o-clock in the morning. So what I wanna know is; what side of whose bed did you wake up on this morning?"

Danny shook his head, rolling his eyes at Flack before he bent down to examine the body once more. If he only knew.

"So, are we thinking body dump?" he asked. He heard Flack scoff at his feeble attempt to change the subject. "Because, I don't see anything here to indicate a struggle took place in this apartment. I mean, not that there's a lot to mess up… place actually looks pretty empty."

"Yeah, I talked to the landlord of this dump," Flack said. "Cheery guy; a real morning person. You'd like him." He grinned at Danny, who raised his eyebrows expectantly. "Alright, so apparently this place has been empty for about two months. But as you can probably imagine, security's not all that tight in a dive like this, and the vacant apartments in this place tend to have their fair share of squatters."

"So either this guy was a squatter himself, which seems unlikely, given the quality of the suit he's wearing, or…" Danny trailed off.

"Or we're still looking for the primary crime scene," Flack finished for him. "But why bring him here? I mean, whoever did this took a big risk. He could have been seen dragging the body across the courtyard, and then he had to bring him up four flights of stairs. It doesn't make sense."

"It's murder, Flack," Danny said morosely, sighing as he tucked away the little bags of evidence he'd gathered while he and Flack had been talking. "It never makes sense. The very thought of doing something like this to another person… it's beyond reason. I mean, look at this guy's face. That's just inhuman rage, Flack. And did you see his fingers? Whoever did this really didn't want to make IDing this guy easy."

"But then he goes and dumps his body here, taking all those risks. Why? It just… it seems strange, don't you think? I mean, the perp takes the time to smash this guy's face and cut off his fingertips, but then he traipses around this place where there are probably over fifty people nearby who could have looked out of their windows and seen him."

"I don't know," Danny said, shrugging his shoulders as he pushed himself up to his feet. "Maybe we're looking at two people; one guy committed the murder, and the other was brought in to get rid of the body. Either that, or there's something significant about this building, and the perp wanted to make a point. What that point is… I just don't know."

"Well, whoever these guys are, they're good," Flack said, looking around the room. "I mean, there's no drag marks in the room or on the stairs, no blood spatter; nothing to indicate that anyone besides this guy was ever here. It's like he just materialized out of nowhere. How is that possible?"

"I got no clue," Danny said, picking up his camera and starting to take overall pictures of the scene before moving in to take more detailed pictures of the body. He paused, lowering the camera and leaning forward to peer down at the victim's chest where a small lapel pin was affixed to the man's suit jacket. It wasn't something that would usually catch his attention, but there was something amiss. The pin was backwards, the clasp facing out with the face of the pin hidden behind the folds of the victim's lapel. He grabbed a magnifying lens from his kit and squinted down at the pin, turning the fabric over so he could look at the face. "Huh," he mused as he sat back, a thoughtful look on his face.

"What's up, Dan?" Flack asked, looking over from where he was examining the lock on the door for signs of tampering.

"I don't know. Maybe it's nothing," Danny said, peering through the lens at the pin once more. "It's just… he's got this pin on his jacket. But it's backwards. I mean, who puts a pin on backwards? And why would they want to?"

"No idea," Flack said. "Maybe he got dressed in the dark?"

"Yeah, but even if that was the case, it would be pretty hard to put the pin on backwards without noticing it."

Flack shrugged his shoulders before squatting down next to Danny and taking a look for himself.

"Maybe he didn't put the pin on himself," Flack suggested. "Maybe the killer did it… Some kind of message, or a signature maybe."

"Yeah, I guess so," Danny agreed as he snapped a few photos of the pin. "This pin though… There's something familiar about it, but I just… I can't remember." He looked up at Flack, his brow furrowed as he tried to wrack his brains. Finally, he shook his head, giving Flack a wry smile. "It's probably nothing… it's too early and my brain's playing tricks on me."

"Should have gotten more sleep instead of getting all hot and heavy with…" he paused, looking expectantly at Danny to finish his sentence.

"Come on, Don," Danny said, tucking his camera away in his kit and taking one last look around the room to ensure he hadn't forgotten anything. "I'm a gentleman. I never kiss and tell."

"Bullshit," Flack declared as he and Danny left the room, nodding to the uniformed officer out in the hallway to have him send the ME up for the body. "Since when? Usually, I can't get you to shut up about your conquests. So what's different about this one?"

"It's… I don't want to jinx it," Danny said quietly. "I don't know where we stand just yet, and before I go shooting my big mouth off to everyone that we know, I wanna be sure that, you know, that we're going somewhere."

"So… I know her?" Flack asked, a smirk on his face as he picked up on Danny's involuntary revelation. Danny groaned at his slip of the tongue as they started down the stairs. Suddenly, Flack stopped dead in his tracks and grabbed Danny's arm, turning him so that they were face-to-face on the landing between the third and fourth floors. "It's not my sister, is it? Please, tell me it isn't Sam."

"Relax. It's not Sam," Danny said. "Jesus. Give me a little credit, Don. Sam's a nice girl, but she's your sister, and that means that she's off-limits as far as I'm concerned." Flack breathed a sigh of relief and began to descend the stairs once more, leaving Danny standing on the landing behind him. "But what if it was Sam?" Danny asked, causing Flack to miss his step, catching himself on the railing before he tumbled down the stairs. "Not that it is her," Danny continued. "But if it was, would that be a bad thing? I mean… I'm not such a bad guy, am I?"

"Oh, no… Dan, that's not what I meant," Flack replied as he took in the hurt look on his friend's face. "No... It's just that, well, she's my sister, you know? I gotta look out for her."

"Right," Danny mumbled as he walked down the stairs, pushing past Flack. "And I have a reputation."

Flack let out a sigh as he watched Danny disappear around the corner, his footsteps echoing loudly in the empty stairwell.

"Dan…" Flack called out after his friend. "Come on, man."

"It's fine, Flack. I get it," came Danny's disembodied response from the floor below.

"Shit," Flack muttered as he hurried down the stairs, hoping to catch up to his friend.

* * *

Emerging from building, Danny frowned, his head hung low as he made his way back across the courtyard toward his vehicle, his good mood from earlier now all but evaporated. He could hear Flack still calling out behind him, but he didn't look back. Shoving his kit into the backseat of the truck, he slammed the door and climbed into the front seat, turning the key in the ignition and cranking up the heat, letting the truck warm up and his temper cool down before he attempted to make his way back to the lab through early morning rush hour traffic.

Without actually saying the words, Flack had managed to dredge up in Danny all the misgivings and flaws he saw in himself when it came to relationships. He had a reputation – an undeserved one, in his opinion – but a reputation none the less. He didn't know where this misguided image people had of him had come from. He'd never dipped his pen in the proverbial office ink before. Sure, he loved women and he flirted with some of the girls at the lab, but he always treated them with respect and had never pushed his boundaries with any of them. He'd had his share of one-night stands, but if truth be told, he preferred to have an actual girlfriend to the awkwardness that came with spending just one night with someone. His heart sank as an unpleasant thought came to mind; if his best friend thought he wasn't good enough, what were other people saying about him? He closed his eyes, willing himself to calm down. It had been a slip of the tongue. Flack hadn't really meant it that way. As he said, he was just looking out for his sister.

But whether his words were intentional or not, they still cut Danny deep. He'd been trying so hard for so long to shed his image as some sort of trouble-making playboy, especially in the past few months. Especially since he first realized his feelings for her. For Lindsay. Since then he'd put in the extra effort to better himself for her, waiting until she was ready to give them a chance.

He had never felt like this about anyone before, this overwhelming desire to just be around her, to make her laugh, to see her smile. He knew he was falling hard for her, and he wanted nothing more than to make things work out between them. But there was a niggling doubt in the back of his mind. He knew she had hesitated in starting something with him months earlier because of her past. She had needed to take some time to deal with the realization that the man who had murdered her friends so many years ago had finally been caught, and she was going to have to go home to testify. But part of him wondered if some of her hesitation hadn't been because of what she'd heard about him. The rumour mill was in full swing at the lab, and he knew that as the new girl, people would have had plenty to say to her about her new coworkers, and him in particular.

But still, she had given him a chance. A smile spread across his face as he remembered her face upon seeing him walk into the court room in Bozeman. He'd dropped everything and hopped on a flight to Montana without agenda or expectation; he'd just wanted to see her. And from what Stella had told him during their brief conversation earlier that day, he thought that she'd needed to see a friendly face. And since her return to New York, her hesitation had seemed to dissipate a little more every day. She found reasons to be around him, to spend time alone with him, to brush up against him. She'd opened up to him, talking to him about growing up in Bozeman and how affected she'd been by the death of her friends. He'd talked to her about his brother, his family, and growing up on the wrong side of the tracks.

Things had been steadily progressing between them. They spent time together outside of work, having drinks or dinner, watching movies together at her place or playing pool at his. But so far, nothing had happened between them. He'd kept his distance, wanting to respect the boundaries she'd established so many months ago.

But then, last night had happened.

-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-

_After spending nearly 20 hours at work finishing off the case Mac had assigned them the day before, he and Lindsay had finally decided to call it a night and head to their respective homes. It was nearly midnight and he'd insisted upon walking her to her subway station, telling her that he didn't want her wandering around alone at this time of night. _

_Arriving at the steps that led down to her stop, neither of them had been willing to be the first to walk away, both of them needing just a few more moments with the other. Finally, he'd leaned forward, pecking her lightly on the cheek and bidding her goodnight before turning and heading back the way they had come to catch his own train home. Her voice calling his name had stilled his feet and he'd slowly turned to face her._

_She'd taken a few cautious steps toward him before taking hold of the front of his jacket and pulling him closer, her face mere inches from his. He began to protest, telling her that he didn't want her to do anything rash because she was tired and not thinking clearly, but she'd silenced him when she'd pushed herself up on her toes and pressed her lips against his. It was soft and sweet, and it absolutely blew his mind. She tasted so much better than he'd ever imagined, and her perfume was intoxicating, overwhelming his senses and leaving him feeling slightly dizzy. _

_She'd deepened the kiss, snaking her arms around his neck and he'd eagerly reciprocated, parting his lips and allowing her delicately probing tongue entrance to his mouth. They'd stood at the top of the stairs, blocking the entrance to the station until they heard the rumble of her train approaching below them. She'd pulled back and smiled up at him as she took his hand in hers and led him down the stairs toward the train that would take them back to her apartment._

_This morning he'd awoken to the sound of his cellphone blaring somewhere in the room. He fumbled around in the dark, feeling slightly lost as his phone was not on the bedside table where he usually left it. He reached out and flicked on the table top lamp and blinked hard as he realized he was not in his own bed. He gazed around his decidedly feminine surroundings, his heart thudding loudly in his chest as he felt movement from the other side of the bed. Turning his head, he gazed down at the woman still sleeping soundly beside him, her face a mask of pure beauty and contentment, her eyelids fluttering delicately as she dreamed. He was about to reach out to stroke her cheek, needing to touch her, to see if she was real and if he was really here in her bed. But his cellphone let out yet another persistent chirp, letting him know that whoever had been trying to reach him had left a voicemail. _

_Unraveling himself from the sheets, he grabbed his jeans from where they had been discarded only a few short hours ago and pulled his phone from his pocket, flipping it open and listening to the message from Flack. There was a scene and he was needed ASAP. He grabbed a pen from the jar on Lindsay's desk and scribbled the address down on the back of his hand before turning around in a circle, looking for his underwear. He blushed and a grin spread across his face as he located his boxers hanging precariously from the lamp in the corner of the room._

_He pulled on his wifebeater and was just looking for his shirt when he heard her stir. _

"_Danny?"_

"_Yeah, Montana. I'm here," he said, sitting down on the side of the bed and gently caressing her bare shoulder. She rolled over and smiled blearily at him._

"_Hi," she said and he felt his gut tighten at the way her voice sounded first thing in the morning. It was low and slightly rough, and it was music to his ears._

"_Hey."_

"_Are you going?" she asked, her disappointment evident on her face. "Don't go. I don't want you to go."_

"_I gotta, Linds," he said, his heart fluttering wildly at her words. She didn't want him to go. "I'm on call tonight, and Flack needs me at a scene. I'm sorry."_

"_I'll make you breakfast," she said, pushing herself up, the sheet that had previously been covering her falling away and revealing her perfect, round breasts. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, completely unabashed at her nakedness in front of him. _

_He tried to object, to tell her to go back to sleep, but she would have none of it. "You can't go to work without breakfast, Danny," she informed him as she began to untangle herself from under the blankets. She found his shirt and instead of handing it to him, she drew it over her own arms and fastened two of the buttons before pulling a fresh pair of panties from her drawer. _

_He found himself unable to say no to her, looking as she did; her hair tousled from sleep, her face fresh and free from any and all makeup, and wearing his shirt. He followed her out into the kitchen as she set about making breakfast. It wasn't much, but as far as he was concerned, toast and coffee had never tasted so good. _

_He glanced at his watch, noting the time. Downing the last of his coffee, he set his cup in the sink before he turned to see Lindsay try in vain to stifle a yawn as she sat at her kitchen table. He smiled at her, crossing her tiny kitchen and pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head._

"_I gotta get going," he said, tentatively running his fingers through her hair. Each strand felt like silk against his skin, and he heaved a sigh as he shoved aside the sudden urge to simply bury his face in her hair. He knew that if he did that, if he gave into that small temptation, he would never be able to drag himself away from her. She leaned forward, resting her forehead against his stomach, her fingers toying with his belt loops. "Go back to bed, Montana. I'll see you at work in a couple of hours, okay?"_

"_Don't you want your shirt back?" she mumbled into the fabric of his wifebeater, her hands skimming around his waist until they came to rest on his backside. _

_He chuckled, grinning down at her as he stepped back, gently disentangling himself from her grasp. "You keep it," he said, grabbing his jacket and pulling it on over his bare shoulders. He zipped it up all the way and checked his pockets for his phone, wallet, badge and keys. "Gives me an excuse to drop by and pick it up later."_

_She smiled at his words and followed him to the door, leaning against the doorjamb as he stepped out into the hallway. He didn't want to go. He really, really wanted to stay here with her. He wanted to do everything they had done together last night over and over again. But duty called and after stepping close and brushing a tender kiss to her forehead, he turned on his heel and forced himself to put one foot in front of the other as he walked away from her. He glanced back over his shoulder while he waited for the elevator to arrive and he felt a wave of euphoria wash over him as he realized she was still standing in her doorway, a wistful little smile playing on her lips as she watched him. He raised his hand and waved as the doors slid open and he stepped inside the elevator. He turned just in time to see her blow him a little kiss before she disappeared back into her apartment and the doors slid closed in front of him._

_He'd been completely oblivious of the rain as he jogged the few short blocks from the subway to the lab. He found himself whistling a happy little tune as he changed his clothes, donning the spare set he always kept in his locker in case of emergencies, and he sang along to the radio as he drove the Avalanche borrowed from the lab's garage to the scene where Flack was waiting for him._

-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-

A sharp rap to the glass of the driver's side window brought Danny back to the present. He blinked, shaking his head as he looked out at the dismal scene before him. The rain still pelted at the windshield of the Avalanche, although the sky was lighter now than when he'd first arrived; the sun having risen above the horizon, albeit still hidden by a thick blanket of dark, angry clouds. He turned to see Flack standing beside the truck, his hair plastered against his head, his clothing soaked right through, and a worried expression on his face.

Danny lowered the window, shivering as a cold blast of air shot in from the outside and raindrops dribbled their way in to the truck, hitting his face and dripping down the glass onto the sleeve of his jacket.

"Hey, Danny," Flack said, his voice full of concern and remorse. "You okay, man? I'm sorry. I… I didn't mean to upset you, it's just…"

"Forget about it, Don," Danny said, giving his friend a small smile. "I get it. She's your sister, and you're just looking out for her. It's alright."

"Danny, you know I didn't mean… What I'm trying to say is…" he paused, taking a breath and flashing Danny an encouraging smile. "Whoever she is, she's a lucky girl, Dan."

"Yeah? You mean that?" Danny asked, a grin spreading across his face as Flack nodded his head in response. "Thanks, man. I appreciate that."

"So… we're good?" Flack asked, his expression brightening and his voice hopeful.

"We're good, Don. Don't worry about it."

"Alright. See you back at the lab?"

Danny nodded his head as Flack turned and trudged through the rain and muck toward his own car. Danny rolled up his window, brushing the errant raindrops from his forearm and turning on the windshield wipers. He put the car in gear and pulled out onto the street, making his way toward the lab.

As he drove, he forced himself to push aside his earlier thoughts of Lindsay, concentrating instead on the scene. Something about it bothered him. Every murder scene bothered him to some extent, but there was just something about this one, and it irritated him that he couldn't seem to put his finger on what it was. There was something about that pin, something just so familiar to him. He needed to get back to the lab and get a really good look at it, get rid of the blood that obscured part of its face and see if it was just a trick of the mind, or if there really was something to it.

**

* * *

*Holds breath while waiting for the verdict***

**So? Are we all on board for more? Have I piqued your interest? Or should I go back to writing fluff and leave the angst to the people who really know what they're doing? Your feedback is always appreciated!**


	2. Something Old, Something New

**A/N: Can I just say thank you all so much for the amazing response to the first chapter of this new story? Really, absolutely, mind-blowingly fantastic. I'm so glad to be doing some angst again. I was really starting to miss it, so it's nice to finally have an outlet again, and I'm glad you've all decided to come along for the ride!**

**I really wasn't sure if this was going to be something I was going to carry on with, and I know I don't usually do this, but I'd like to say a special thanks to the following for their encouraging reviews: rapidtetv, TAsolo, Linoria, laurzz, unlikelyRLshipper, Dine89, juels4ya, Broe929, ZoeyBug, dannymesserforever11, afrozenheart412, and jorizo.**

**Surprisingly, I don't have much more to say in this Author's note. So I'll just say that this chapter contains some casework, and as always I'm not an expert… other than that, I hope you enjoy Chapter 2!**

* * *

"So, what do we have, Danny?" Mac asked as he settled himself down in the chair behind his desk.

"What we got, Mac, is a big steaming pile of nothing," Danny replied tersely, slapping the thin case file down onto Mac's desk. "We got no ID on the vic, we got no fingerprints from the perp, we got a through-and-through to the vic's chest, which of course means we got no bullet, and we still got no idea where our primary crime scene is." He let out an exasperated sigh and ran his fingers through his hair as he sat down heavily on the couch in Mac's office. "I feel like I'm spinning my wheels here, Mac. I've been plowing through the stuff from this case all morning and all I got is my stupid gut instincts about some pin."

Mac stared across his desk at the young detective. "Don't beat yourself up, Danny," he said. "It's early yet. You have to be patient and just follow…"

"Yeah, yeah," Danny muttered. "Follow the evidence. I know." He looked up at Mac and gave him a wan smile. "Sorry. It's just… it's hard. Seeing this guy… Sid said our vic was tied up and beaten for at least 48 hours before the perp finally put him out of his misery. 48 hours, Mac. Can you imagine that? He had broken ribs, broken fingers, shattered kneecaps, not to mention his face." He shook his head and slumped down against the padded back of the couch. "What could he possibly have done to warrant something like that? I just don't get it."

"Well, that's a good thing, don't you think?" Mac asked. "I would be more worried about you if you weren't affected by it." He stood and walked around his desk, sitting down on the coffee table across from Danny. "We see this kind of thing all the time, Danny. Violent crime is a part of our daily lives. But even the most seasoned of us comes upon a case every once in a while that really gets to us. And I think that maybe for you, seeing someone beaten so badly might hit home on a more personal level, don't you?"

Danny knew what Mac was referring to. He was referring to his brother, to Louie, and how he had been beaten to a pulp and left for dead. Danny averted his eyes, concentrating hard on a random spot on the floor and mutely nodded his head.

"If this one gets too tough for you," Mac said, "You let me know, okay? No one would think any less of you if you needed to step back."

Danny cleared his throat and looked up to meet Mac's gaze. "Thanks, Mac. But I'll be alright," he said, pushing himself to his feet. "I gotta go and check on the blood samples Adam collected from the vic's clothes, and I'm waiting on Hawkes to finish with that pin."

"What is it about this pin, Danny?" Mac asked as he picked up one of the close-up pictures Danny had taken of it back at the scene, frowning as he examined it more closely. "Why has it got you so sure that it means something?"

"I don't know," Danny replied, shrugging his shoulders before gathering his case file and heading to the door. "It's just a feeling I have. I mean, it doesn't make sense. Why put it on backwards?"

"Maybe to draw attention to it?" Mac suggested. "Maybe it was something the killer wanted us to notice. Do you think you would have paid any attention to it if it hadn't been on wrong?"

"Huh," Danny said thoughtfully, pausing in the doorway to Mac's office. "I don't know. Probably not, I guess. I mean, I wouldn't have thought it meant anything special, you know? Probably would have just taken a quick look at it, catalogued it, and put it in with all the vic's other stuff."

"So maybe your stupid gut instinct about it isn't so stupid after all?" Mac asked, giving Danny an encouraging smile. "Follow it up. See where it leads you. Now go on and get out of here. Don't you have work to do?"

"You got it, boss," Danny said, striding off down the hallway toward the trace lab where he could see Adam and Hawkes working on his evidence.

* * *

Lindsay and Stella were heading back to the lab from the precinct. They'd spent their morning interrogating a suspect in their latest investigation, and he'd finally caved under their gruelling barrage of questions. After watching the unis lead him away to lockup, Lindsay and Stella had made their way back to the truck, chatting as they buckled themselves in and Stella pulled out onto the street. They'd been driving for a while when they came upon some heavy traffic. Stella had lapsed into silence as she concentrated hard on the road ahead of her, and Lindsay had taken the opportunity to think.

Last night had been amazing. Unexpected, but amazing nonetheless. Lindsay didn't know what it was that made her finally decide to make the first move, but she was glad she had. She and Danny had made out like a pair of star-crossed teenagers on the subway, giggling like children when they broke apart only to find themselves on the receiving end of a disapproving glare from the only other passenger on their car at that late hour of the night. The elderly woman had narrowed her eyes, clearly disgusted with their blatant display of affection, and Danny had responded by flashing the woman a cheeky grin before pulling his coat up over their heads, concealing them from her view as he pulled her close for another kiss.

When they'd finally stumbled into her apartment, she hadn't been able to get his clothes off fast enough. They'd tiptoed around one another long enough in her opinion, and she knew from the way he had been carefully keeping his distance over the past several months that if someone was going to break the cycle of cautious friendship they'd re-established since she'd returned from Montana, it would have to be her.

Thankfully, once she'd broken down the barrier, Danny had seemed to come alive, responding eagerly to her advances and finally taking the lead, carrying her to the bedroom where he proceeded to passionately ravish her body, leaving her panting, exhausted and immensely satisfied for the first time in a very long time. She'd been surprised at how easy it was with him, how there was no awkwardness, no uncertainty. Of course she had been nervous; he was Danny Messer, after all. She'd had her fair share of sexual partners in her time, but if the gossip around the lab was anything to go by, he had reams of experience behind him. So when she'd asked him to be gentle – it had been a long time, after all – she'd been shocked to see a light blush on his cheeks as he admitted that it had been a while for him too, and he hoped that he wouldn't disappoint her.

And he hadn't. Not by a long shot. Even now, hours later, her body was still tingling from his touch. She closed her eyes and let her mind wander back to her bedroom, remembering the way his hands had caressed her body, as if he was trying to memorize every inch of her by touch alone. And when the moment came and he finally entered her for the first time, she'd let out a sigh of relief. This is what it was supposed to be like. It was supposed to be passionate, tender, and beautiful. It was supposed to make her feel special, as though she was the only woman in the entire world. And it was supposed to leave her longing for more.

Which he delivered. Three times.

So, now she sat, shifting uncomfortably in her seat as she sped through the streets of Manhattan. Nervous butterflies fluttered around in her stomach as she thought about what last night had meant to her, what he meant to her. He was so much more than a friend to her now. He had been there for her when she had felt herself slipping away into darkness, drowning in the horrifying memories of her past. She didn't know if she would ever be able to thank him for being by her side, even though she had given him no reason to do so, having pushed him away and keeping him at arm's length for so long. What she did know is that now, all she wanted was him. What she wasn't sure of was whether or not last night had been it for him. She felt fairly confident that he was looking for more from her, more than just one night. Surely he wouldn't have waited all those months for her, only to cast her aside once he'd gotten into her bed? That may have been the Danny Messer that the nosy lab techs loved to gossip about, but it wasn't the Danny Messer that she had come to know. That wasn't the real Danny Messer.

"You look like you're doing some pretty heavy thinking there, kiddo."

Lindsay started, opening her eyes only to find that they had arrived at the underground parking garage below the lab. She turned to see Stella staring back at her with an expectant look on her face.

"Care to share your thoughts with the whole class?" Stella asked.

"Um… yeah. I was just… uh… I…" Lindsay stammered, flustered at having been caught while she had been lost in a daydream. She shook her head and gave Stella a sheepish smile. "Sorry. I just spaced out there for a few minutes. I'm fine."

"You sure?" Stella asked, concern flickering briefly across her face. "It's not… everything's fine back in Montana now, right? You're not still having those flashbacks are you?"

"Oh, no," Lindsay assured her friend. "No, nothing like that. Actually, this was a good space out. Really, everything's fine."

"Ah. So… a good space out," Stella said as she took the key out of the ignition and unbuckled her seatbelt. " You know, in my experience there are really only two good reasons for a woman to space out like that. One of them is chocolate… and the other is a man." She pushed open the driver's side door and stepped out, turning back to Lindsay and giving her a knowing smile. "Ten bucks says it's not chocolate."

Lindsay blushed and looked down at her hands, biting her lip in an attempt to hide the enormous smile she could feel beginning to spread across her face. She fumbled with her seatbelt before opening her own door and stepping out onto the concrete floor of the garage. She gathered her bag from the backseat, and slammed the door shut before falling into step with Stella as they headed for the bank of elevators at the far end of the garage. Having reached their destination, she hazarded a quick glance up at Stella out of the corner of her eye and saw that her friend was staring intently back at her, eyebrows raised while she waited for Lindsay to say something.

"Come on, Linds. Who's the guy?" she pressed.

"Who says there's a guy?" Lindsay said evasively. "Maybe I really like chocolate."

"Oh, yeah. Totally," Stella said, rolling her eyes and pressing the call button. "And maybe Mac will finally take a day off, and Flack will stop being such a wiseass."

Stepping into the waiting elevator with Stella, Lindsay let out a bark of laughter as the doors slid closed behind them. "Like that will ever happen. I think being a wiseass is hardwired into Flack's DNA." She looked over at Stella and gave her a shy smile. "It's just… it's really new, Stella. We're still figuring things out and I'm just not ready to talk about it yet. But I promise that when I am, you'll be the first on my list of people to tell, alright?"

"Fine," Stella sighed, graciously accepting defeat… for now. She reached out and laid her hand on Lindsay's arm, giving her a light, supportive squeeze. "But just tell me one thing, okay?" Lindsay nodded her head, and Stella continued. "Is he good to you?"

This time Lindsay couldn't hold back her smile. "Yeah, Stell. He is."

"Alright then," Stella said, giving Lindsay's arm another brief squeeze. "But just so you know, by my standards, there's not a lot of guys out there that would be anywhere near good enough for you, Linds. So if you found one that treats you like you deserve to be treated, then… then I'm really happy for you. You hang on to him, you got that?"

"Yeah, Stell. I got it." The doors opened on the 35th floor and Stella flashed her another smile before stepping out into the hall and heading off toward her office. "Hey, Stell?" Lindsay called out, and Stella paused, turning to face her. "Thanks."

"Anytime, kiddo," she said. Lindsay watched her walk away down the hall, her curls bouncing around her shoulders as she went.

* * *

"Hey, Danny? You got a second?"

Danny looked up from the computer monitor where he had been going over the photos he'd taken of the crime scene, trying with little success to find something new that would give him a lead on the case.

"Sure, Doc. What's up?"

Hawkes strode into the AV lab and pulled out a chair, sitting down next to Danny and plugging a flash drive into one of the computers.

"I got some info for you on that pin you asked about," he said. "After Adam took some samples of the blood from the face of it, I cleaned it up and I got a good look at it."

"Yeah? That's great, Doc," Danny said. He watched as Hawkes brought up an image on the screen.

"I still have no idea what it is or where it came from," he said as he typed commands into the keyboard, bringing the image into focus, "But…"

"I knew it!" Danny shouted, startling Hawkes with his outburst. "Sorry, Hawkes," he said, giving the former ME a sheepish smile. "I knew it," he said again, more quietly this time. "I just knew I recognized that pin. My friend's dad used to have one just like it." He sat back in his chair and shook his head, a wide grin on his face as he remembered. "Man, I haven't seen that thing in years."

Hawkes looked from Danny, to the image on the screen and back to Danny again, clearly perplexed as to why his friend should have such a broad smile on his face over something so pedestrian. From what he could see, it was a standard, gold-plated lapel pin with a small image of the Statue of Liberty etched into the face of it.

"Just looks like a pin to me, Dan," he said. "What's so special about it?"

"Oh, there's nothing special about the pin itself," Danny explained. "But for us, me and my friends when we were growing up, it was pretty special." Seeing the confusion on Hawkes's face, he elaborated. "See, I used to have this friend, Tommy Vanzella. Me and him were real close. Grew up on the same street, went to school together. Him, me and these two other guys, we were inseparable as kids. And it was Tommy's dad that had a pin like this."

"Okay," Hawkes said. "Still not getting why it's so special."

"Well, like I said, the pin itself wasn't special. It was just a pin," Danny said. "But see, Tommy's dad was kind of a neighbourhood hero. This big fire broke out one night, and he ran into a burning building and rescued some kids that were trapped in their home. Fire department was stuck in traffic en route, and if he hadn't have done what he did, they would have died. I think we were about seven or eight when it happened and I remember that everybody was so proud of him. There was this big ceremony where the fire department gave him some kind of an award for bravery along with this pin. It was a big deal for everybody back home, you know? There wasn't always a lot to celebrate in our neighbourhood, so when someone did something really good, it really meant something to us."

"Alright, so Tommy's dad got this pin," Hawkes said, looking expectantly at Danny to continue his story. "Is it unique? Or are there others like it?"

"Come on, Doc. Look for yourself, Doc. It's nothing special," Danny said, gesturing to the image on the screen. "I'm sure there must be a ton of them out there. Probably a dime a dozen. It's just… well, you know how I wear my grandfather's dogtags?" Hawkes nodded his head, and Danny continued. "It's because they mean something to me, right? To anybody else, these dogtags would be meaningless. Just scraps of metal."

"But to you, they're important," Hawkes said, catching on.

"Right," Danny said. "My grandfather gave them to me before he died, and I wear them because they remind me of him. Same with Tommy. His dad wore that pin everyday to remind himself that even a nobody from Staten Island could do some good in the world. And when he died, he gave it to Tommy. And I know that it was just as important to him as my grandfather's dogtags are to…"

Hawkes had been looking at the image on the screen, but when Danny's voice trailed off, he glanced over at his friend, puzzled by his sudden silence.

"Danny?"

Danny was sitting stock still, his eyes closed and his brow furrowed in concentration.

_Why would he put it on backwards? _Danny thought to himself. _So someone would notice it. But even if they noticed it, why would it be important? It wouldn't._ He shook his head and opened his eyes, staring intently at Hawkes.

"It wouldn't be important unless you knew the story behind it, Hawkes. If you didn't know the story, it would be just another pin…"

"Danny, what…" Hawkes exclaimed as Danny jumped to his feet and strode out of the office, nearly colliding with Lindsay who was passing by just as he came barrelling through the door. He mumbled an apology to her before breaking into a jog as he headed for the locker room.

Lindsay looked up and met Hawkes's gaze, the concerned expression on his face matching her own. She pushed open the office door and stepped inside.

"What was that all about?" she asked.

* * *

"Danny?" Lindsay asked as she approached the solitary figure standing in front of his open locker. "Are you okay?"

"I'm sorry about bumping into you like that, Montana," he said, his back facing her as he grabbed his jacket from his locker. "I just… I needed to get out of there."

She reached out a tentative hand, letting it come to rest between his shoulder blades.

"It's alright," she assured him. "No harm done." She began to move her hand, gently rubbing his back in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. She could feel the tension in his muscles ease ever so slightly at her touch. "You sure you're alright?" she asked. "Do you… do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really," he replied as he slid his gun into the holster on his belt. "I just… I need a minute. Can you give me a minute? Please?"

"Sure," she said. She took a few steps back, sitting herself down on the bench facing the lockers. He turned and looked at her, giving her a quizzical expression.

"Uh… I said I need a minute," he said, raising his eyebrows at her.

"I know. I heard you," Lindsay said. "So take your minute. And when you're done, I'll be right here if you need me."

Danny stared back at her for a moment before giving her a small, lopsided smile.

"You're really something else, you know that?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty special," she said, smiling back at him. "But then again, so are you. I don't know many guys that would wait for me like you did, Danny." The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them and she dropped her gaze to her hands, which were fidgeting nervously with the sleeve of her blouse. "Not only that, but you were there for me when I really needed you. And… well, I just want to make sure you know that if you need to talk… about whatever's bothering you, or anything else… well, I hope you'll give me the chance to be there for you too."

"I would have waited longer, you know," he said softly.

"I know," she replied, looking up at him through her lashes, a faint blush rising on her cheeks. "But I don't think I could have. I… I'm really glad that last night happened, Danny. And… and…"

"I want it to happen again too, Linds," he finished. Her eyes still trained on her hands, she heard his footsteps as he approached her spot on the bench. He stopped in front of her and she looked up to see him smiling down at her, his hand outstretched. She placed her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet, enveloping her in his warm embrace as he wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair. She let her hands slide around to his back and she gripped tightly to him as she rested her forehead against his shoulder.

They held onto each other, neither saying a word, both of them just needing this moment with one another. Lindsay could sense that he wanted to talk, that whatever it was that was bothering him, he needed to get it off his chest, but he was holding back. So, once again, she stepped out of her comfort zone and bridged the gap between them.

"Hawkes said that you two were talking about a friend of yours when you took off," she began. "He said you suddenly seemed kind of… spooked. Are you sure you're alright?"

She heard him sigh and felt his breath against her neck. She struggled to maintain her composure, but she was all too aware of how close they were, and how easily their simple embrace could quickly turn into something more intimate. She wanted nothing more than to slip her fingers under his shirt, to feel the lines of his body under her hand as she had done the night before. She wanted to hold his face in her hands as she kissed him, and to feel his hands exploring her body as he deepened their kiss. But now wasn't the time, and the locker room wasn't the place.

Apparently, his thoughts were running along the same lines as hers, and she felt him tighten his arms around her momentarily, before he pulled away and took a step back. His face was tinged with a slight flush of colour, and he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand while staring back at her, gnawing thoughtfully on his lip.

"I gotta go," he said finally, turning and grabbing his wallet from the top shelf of his locker before slamming the door shut.

"Fine," she said, quickly keying in the code to her own locker. "But I'm going with you."

"Montana," he protested as she slid her arms into her jacket. "I'm just going to check on a lead. I'll be fine."

"I know you will," she replied, shutting her locker and turning to face him. "But I want to go with you anyway."

He shook his head, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "You are so damn stubborn, you know that?"

"Kind of the pot calling the kettle black, don't you think, Messer?" she asked, grinning back at him.

He stepped toward her once again, lacing his fingers through her hair and cupping the back of her head in the palm of his hand as he pulled her close and pressed a kiss to her lips. Her hands fisted the front of his jacket and she stepped closer, aligning her body with his. He ran his tongue along her bottom lip before letting out a frustrated groan and pulling away, resting his forehead against hers as he fought to regain his composure.

"Fine. You can come," he said, taking a step back from her. "But I'm driving."

She rolled her eyes as they fell into step beside one another, and Lindsay shivered slightly when she felt Danny's hand on the small of her back, gently guiding her as they walked down the aisle between the rows of lockers toward the door.

"So, where are we going?" she asked.

"To Staten Island," he replied, holding the door open for her and waiting for her to step through before he followed her out into the hall. "We're going to my old neighbourhood. I got a few questions for an old friend."

**

* * *

**

**So? Some casework, a little history on Danny, a little bit of fluff… sadly, no smut. (yet!) **

**I hope the case is making sense and that the whole thing with the pin wasn't too confusing. Please feel free to review or PM me and let me know what you thought!**

***rhymes***


	3. Anything's Possible

**A/N: Wow. So, for the first time in a very long time, I'm actually updating on consecutive days (well, sort of). Who'd have thought I still had it in me? But I had the day off from work, and the muse was inspired, so… here you go!**

**Thank you, once again, for the amazing reviews! I know there wasn't a lot of D/L in the last chapter, but I appreciate your patience… we'll get there, don't you worry. I'm glad there are a few of you out there who are really getting into the case, and wanting to know what the hell is going on. Hopefully, this chapter will help to enlighten you!**

* * *

"So, you think your friend Tommy is involved in this somehow?" Lindsay asked. They were on their way to Staten Island, to Danny's old neighbourhood. While he was driving, Danny had relayed the story about the pin to Lindsay, who was just as perplexed as he as to what it meant.

"To tell you the truth, I don't know, Linds," Danny replied, glancing briefly at her before returning his eyes to the road in front of him. "All I know is I got a gut feeling that someone was using that pin to try to tell me something. But I don't know what, and I don't know who or why. All I can think of is I gotta go see Tommy. I gotta find out what's going on, you know. If he's mixed up in something bad… maybe I can help him."

"You're a good friend, Danny," Lindsay said, smiling at him. He shrugged his shoulders, shaking his head sadly.

"No, I'm not," he said. "Over the past ten years, I've seen Tommy maybe a handful of times. What kind of a friend is that?"

"Life happens, Danny. People drift apart. It doesn't mean you don't care," she pointed out reasonably. "I mean, look at you. Right now, you're driving clear across the city just to check on him. It doesn't matter that it's been ten years. You're still looking out for him. That says a lot."

Danny was silent, staring straight ahead, but she could see the faint blush on his cheeks from her compliment. She reached out and laid a tentative hand on his arm, hoping that the gesture would somehow cushion the blow of her next words.

"Have you… have you considered the possibility that Tommy… that your vic…"

"I'm trying real hard not to think about that possibility right now, Linds," he replied coolly. "I don't wanna go there unless I have to. I mean, I'm not deluding myself here. It's just… Tommy is a good guy. Always kept his nose clean, stayed away from the gangs. He's been running his dad's store since he died and he picked up right where his old man left off, trying to make things better. His dad made us all think that we could do something bigger than ourselves, you know? Make a difference." He gripped the steering wheel tighter, and Lindsay could feel the tension in the muscles of his arm beneath her fingers. "There is no reason that I know of that anyone would want to hurt him, let alone kill him. Especially not like this. You didn't see the body, Linds. It was pretty bad. I've never seen anybody beat up like that before, not even my brother."

"It's okay, Danny," Lindsay said soothingly. "I'm sorry I brought it up. I just wanted to make sure that you were keeping all your options open."

"I know," he said, "And I appreciate that. But until I find out otherwise, I gotta believe he's okay."

Lindsay nodded her head, removing her hand from his arm. They rode in silence for a few moments, until the relative quiet was interrupted by a loud growling from Danny's stomach. Lindsay looked up to see him grinning sheepishly back at her.

"Wow. That's attractive," Lindsay teased him, giggling when his cheeks flushed a bright pink.

"Sorry," he said. "I guess I'm a little hungry."

"When was the last time you ate, Danny?" Lindsay asked.

"Uh... breakfast?"

"Danny! That was over ten hours ago!" Lindsay exclaimed, aghast. "And it was hardly a proper meal."

"What?" he asked defensively. "I've been busy."

"Do you want to stop and get something?" she asked. He shook his head, and she pressed on. "Come on, Danny. You need to eat something. I have a granola bar in my bag. Do you want that?"

"What? No way," Danny scoffed. "Nah, you keep your nuts and berries there, Montana. If I'm gonna eat, it's gonna be real food."

Lindsay rolled her eyes at him, glad that even after the events of the day and what had happened between them last night, he was still able to tease her.

"Fine," she said. "But when we're done talking to Tommy, I'm going to make sure you get something to eat, alright?"

"Oh, yeah?" Danny asked, giving her a sidelong glance. "You asking me on a date, Montana? Because, that's pretty presumptuous of you. I might be busy, for all you know." She crossed her arms over her chest and raised her eyebrows at him. "Alright, you got me," he chuckled. "I got no plans after this… unless they're with you."

"Good," Lindsay said, smiling triumphantly at him. "How does Ray's sound?"

"Ray's sounds perfect," he replied. "But I'm buying."

"Danny, I invited you."

"Yeah, but you made me breakfast this morning."

"It was toast and coffee, Danny," Lindsay argued. "Your breakfast probably set me back all of fifty cents."

"And that's fifty cents too much," Danny smirked. "I got a big appetite, Montana. Can't have my girl going broke trying to feed me, can I?"

Lindsay's heart nearly beat right out of her chest at his words. _His girl?_ He'd called her _his _girl? Her cheeks were suddenly unnaturally warm and she felt lightheaded. When she hadn't responded after a moment, Danny turned to look over at her while they were stopped at a red light.

"You okay, Linds?" he asked, concern flashing in his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"You said I was your girl," she whispered, barely believing she'd heard him right.

"Oh… did I?" He paused, seemingly flustered by his unintentional admission. "Well… um, you… I mean, I didn't…" He took a deep breath before giving her a shy smile. "Well, aren't you?"

He looked so utterly vulnerable in that moment and the sheer innocence of his question left Lindsay momentarily speechless. Unable to form words, she leaned across the centre console and cupped his face softly in the palm of her hand, her fingers brushing over the rough stubble of his cheek before she pressed her lips against his. "I guess I am now," she replied, pulling back and smiling at him.

His eyes crinkled behind his glasses and he gave her a lopsided grin, then moved as if to kiss her again, but he was stilled by the sharp honk of a car behind them. Danny jolted, looking up to see that the light had turned. He gave the driver behind him a conciliatory wave as he stepped on the gas, moving their vehicle out into the intersection. As he drove, he reached out and took Lindsay's hand in his, lacing their fingers together and resting their joined hands on the console between them as they sped along with the flow of traffic heading toward Staten Island.

* * *

Back at the lab, Adam walked quickly down the hallway, peering into the labs and offices looking for Danny. So intent on his search was he that he walked right into Flack and Mac, who were just emerging from the AV lab where Hawkes had filled them in on his findings with the pin, along with Danny's rather bizarre reaction.

"Whoa, slow down there, Adam," Mac said, picking up the file folder that had fallen from Adam's hands during their collision. "Where's the fire?"

"Oh, uh, sorry, Mac," Adam said, taking the offered folder back from his boss. "I was just… um, have you guys seen Danny? I need to talk to him about the blood I got from his vic's clothes."

"Hawkes said he took of a while ago," Flack said. "But I'm working the same case. Something I can do for you?"

"Let's take this into my office," Mac said, leading the detective and the lab tech down the hall. He held his door open while Adam and Flack stepped inside, then he followed them in, taking a seat behind his desk. "What've you got, Adam?"

"Well," Adam began, his hands shaking slightly at being put on the spot. "I, uh, I ran the blood on the victim's clothes and most of it came back a match to the John Doe that Danny and Flack brought in this morning."

"What do you mean _most of it_?" Flack asked. "Are you telling me there was someone else's blood on our guy?"

"Maybe we got lucky and our perp cut himself," Mac suggested. "Or maybe John Doe fought back. Sid did mention that he had what appeared to be defensive wounds on his arms."

Flack looked expectantly at Adam. "Any idea whose blood it is?"

"Well… not exactly," Adam said, opening up his folder and handing his report over to Mac. Flack walked around behind Mac's chair and read over his shoulder. "There were no hits on DNA from the second sample… but it was definitely female DNA."

"Wait, did you say female DNA?" Flack asked, sharing a confounded look with Mac. "But… Mac, I saw our vic. And unless she was some kind of mega body-builder, there's no way a woman did that to our John Doe."

"Then that means we may have a second victim on our hands," Mac said. "One that we haven't found yet." He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Get Danny on the phone. I need him back here, not out there chasing imaginary leads. And where's Lindsay? We could use her help on this."

"I saw her come back in with Stella a few hours ago," Adam said, "But I haven't seen her since."

"Maybe she went with Danny," Flack suggested. "Hawkes said she ran into him when he was leaving AV, and they're pretty close, you know. She's like me, in that if something was bothering him, she wouldn't have let him go off on his own."

"Find them both. Get them back here," Mac said. "I need someone to look at the blood-spatter on the vic's clothes, see if we can figure out what kind of injury she sustained. We need to find out who this mystery female victim is, and fast. We don't know if she's dead or alive, we just know she bled… a lot. It's too late for John Doe, but we may still be able to save her."

"Gotcha, Mac. I'm on it," Flack said, pulling out his phone as he walked out of the office.

* * *

"Here we go. Home, sweet home," Danny said, his tone less than enthusiastic as he turned onto a quiet residential road. Lindsay glanced around at her surroundings, looking out for the first time at the neighbourhood where Danny had spent his formative years. The houses were small and obviously fairly old, but they were neatly kept and they sat back on narrow, fenced-in yards.

"Your parents still live around here?" Lindsay asked, watching the houses go by.

"Yeah." Lindsay waited, but when he didn't elaborate, she decided to let it go for now. "Here we go," he said, pulling up to the curb. "This is Tommy's place."

Lindsay looked out of her window at the house Danny was pointing to a few doors up the street. It was small like those that surrounded it. But unlike the others, most of which were faded with age, this one was painted a crisp white with grey trim, and the yard was obviously tended by either a landscaper or a very attentive homeowner.

"It's cute," Lindsay said, turning to smile at Danny. "All it needs is a white picket fence."

Danny nodded his head, then turned to get out of the truck. Lindsay watched him warily. After their earlier discussion about their plans for the evening, she had noticed Danny getting quieter and quieter the closer they got to his old neighbourhood. His formerly chatty mood had changed and he'd become almost pensive, giving monosyllabic responses to her questions as she attempted to carry on the conversation. She'd put it down to nerves, choosing not to let herself overanalyze the situation, knowing that she'd eventually convince herself that she had said something wrong and turned him off of her.

She started when her door swung open and Danny was standing there, offering her his hand to help her down from the truck. She accepted his help and after closing her door and locking the truck, they began to walk toward Tommy's house.

"Daniel Messer? Is that you?"

Danny let out a soft groan before he turned to face the voice that had called his name. Lindsay peered around him to see a small, round woman with a halo of fluffy white hair standing in the neighbouring yard with a wide smile on her wrinkled, amiable face.

"Hi, Mrs. Pascuzzi," Danny said.

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes," she said, beaming as he leaned down to give her a warm hug. "Oh, and you're still as handsome as ever I see. You know, my granddaughter is still single, Danny. And your mother isn't getting any younger, you know. You need to give her some grandchildren while she's still able to enjoy them."

Lindsay tried not to laugh at the mortified look on Danny's face. He sighed, then smiled down at the tiny, wizened woman in front of him. "Yeah, well… I'll keep that in mind. Thanks."

"Who's your friend?" she asked, pointing at Lindsay, who was still standing a few feet away, unsure as to whether or not she was intruding on their reunion.

"Oh, sorry," he said, waving Lindsay over. "Lindsay, this is Mrs. Pascuzzi. Mrs. P., this is Lindsay Monroe. We, uh… we work together."

"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Pascuzzi," Lindsay said, shaking the delicate, leathery hand that was offered to her.

"You too, dear. Are you here for work, Danny? Or are you just visiting?"

"Actually, I came to see Tommy." Danny gestured to the house next door, being deliberately evasive in his response. "You know if he's in?"

"Well, I don't make it my business to keep tabs on my neighbours," Mrs. Pascuzzi sniffed primly. "But he's usually home from work around 5 o'clock. Joanie should be home though. She doesn't work on Saturdays."

Danny gave Lindsay a little wink, clearly as amused as she was at the old woman's knowledge of her neighbours' schedules, despite her claims to the contrary.

"Great. Thanks, Mrs. P.," Danny said. "Maybe I'll say hello to Joanie, then see if I can meet up with Tommy at the store."

"Are you sure you don't have time to come in and visit with me for a few minutes? I just made some fresh biscotti." She smiled up at Danny, patting his cheek affectionately. "You know how you love my biscotti, Danny. I could never keep this one away from my house when I was baking," Mrs. Pascuzzi explained, addressing Lindsay. "I don't know how he stays so skinny. You're too skinny Danny. You go home and let your mother fatten you up."

Lindsay had to bite her cheek - hard - to hold back her laughter at the sheer ridiculousness of Mrs. Pascuzzi's suggestion that Danny didn't eat enough. She'd once seen him eat an entire pizza from Ray's – with all the fixings – in one sitting. And a few hours later, he was looking around for more. But despite his ravenous appetite, his body was still lean and hard and absolutely perfect; something Lindsay had suspected for a long time, but had finally been able to confirm first hand last night. As they said their goodbyes to Mrs. P., Lindsay couldn't resist sneaking her hand around behind him and giving his ass a good, firm pinch.

"Ow! Jesus, what was that for?" he asked, blushing furiously as she giggled at him.

"Just making sure I remember what your butt feels like before Mrs. Pascuzzi gets a chance to fatten you up," she teased.

"Shut up," he said, nudging her playfully with his elbow. "She's nice, but man… she can talk. Give her half an hour and the whole neighbourhood will know I'm here." He sighed as he opened the gate to Tommy's front yard and they began to make their way up the flagstone pathway leading to the front door. "She really does make the best biscotti I've ever had in my life though." Danny looked longingly over at Mrs. P.'s now vacant front yard, his stomach growling obnoxiously once again. "Fuck, I'm hungry."

"Well, let's go see if Tommy's home, and then we can get some food into you, okay?"

"Sounds good," he said as they mounted the front steps. He stopped as his phone released a shrill ring, and he swore as he fished it out of his pocket.

"Messer… Yeah, I'm just checking out a lead… uh huh… Lindsay's with me… okay! Jesus, Flack. Calm down. Just tell Mac we'll be back as soon as we can." He listened for a moment before he looked up at Lindsay, his brow furrowed. "And Adam's sure about that? Okay, thanks Flack. See you soon."

He snapped his phone shut, shoving it back into his pocket.

"What is it?"

"Adam ran the blood on the vic's clothes. Some of the blood was female," he explained.

"But… then that would mean…"

"Danny! Oh, Danny, wait!"

They turned to see Mrs. Pascuzzi hurrying down her front steps into her yard.

"Oh, God. What now?" Danny muttered to himself before plastering a smile on his face and heading across the yard to the fence that separated Tommy's yard from his elderly neighbour's. "What's up, Mrs. P.?"

"I just… I just remembered," she panted. "I… I haven't seen… Tommy hasn't been home…"

"What? How long?" Danny asked, his voice suddenly clipped and professional.

She shook her head, still trying to catch her breath. "I don't know… I can't… maybe a few days?"

Danny turned to Lindsay, his blue eyes filled with dread. "And what about Joanie?" he asked. "Have you seen her?"

"No."

"Go back inside your house, Mrs. P.," Danny instructed before he turned and dashed up the front steps, drawing his gun from the holster at his side as he approached the front door. Coming up the stairs behind him, Lindsay saw that there was a screen door covering the front entrance. Her heart began to thud loudly in her chest when she realized that behind the screen the front door had been left slightly ajar. "Shit," she heard Danny mutter under his breath.

"Danny…" Lindsay's voice trembled as she noticed that Danny's hands had begun to shake ever so slightly.

"It's fine." Danny was talking more to himself than to her. "I'm fine. Everything's fine." He took a deep breath, then reached for the screen door, wincing when it creaked loudly on it's hinges. "NYPD," he announced loudly. "Tommy? You in there? It's Danny. Danny Messer."

They listened intently for several seconds, but there was nothing to be heard, save for the eerie calm that seemed to have descended upon them. Danny nodded his head, silently instructing Lindsay to hold the screen open for him while he reached out and gave the front door a tentative push.

"Tommy?" Danny called out into the dark and silent house. "Joanie? I'm coming in."

He gave the front door a hearty shove, sending it flying back on it's hinges, slamming into the interior wall. He peered through the doorway and took a cautious step over the threshold, checking his blind spots before moving deeper into the house. It was dark and the house was unfamiliar to her, but she could faintly see Danny moving with ease amongst the furnishings, methodically making his way room by room through the main floor of the house.

She looked over to where Danny was standing in front of an open door just off the kitchen that Lindsay assumed led down to the basement. He was illuminated by a sickly, pale light that shone up from the subterranean room below, and his face, which had been clouded by concern not a few moments earlier, was now devoid of all emotion.

"Danny? What's wrong?" she asked. "Danny?"

He shook his head, taking a final look through the door before lowering his gun. He walked past her out onto the front steps where he stopped, his back to her and his shoulders slumped defeatedly. Lindsay looked back over her shoulder at the basement door, her innate curiosity getting the better of her. She crossed the kitchen and peered down the stairs, her stomach churning painfully at what she saw.

"Oh, God," she whispered. "Oh, my God."

**

* * *

Now, before you start calling for my head on a pike (and I mean pike as in a sharp pointed stick, not as in the freshwater fish. Although that would be gross too) you had to know coming into this story that there would be cliffhangers. I mean, come on! It's me. And it's angst. **

**Now that I've gotten that out of the way, I will do my very best not to leave you hanging for too long. I am getting so excited about this story and I'm feeling really inspired for the first time in a long time. I can't wait to share more of this story with you!**

**I love hearing back from my readers, so please leave a review if you'd care to share your thoughts on this chapter. **

***rhymes***


	4. Not Good

**A/N:**** Although there were a few of you calling for my head on the proverbial pike, I seem to still be in one piece, which I take as a good sign you're looking for more from this story and you realize how difficult it would be for me to continue without my head. All I can say to you is… Good call. : )**

**I'm so happy to see you all getting into the case now, and I really can't wait for you all to read what's coming up next, so I'll just say thank you so much for the reviews, and enjoy Chapter 4!**

* * *

"Alright, Mac. Fill me in," Flack said as he stepped through the doorway of the little white house belonging to Tommy Vanzella and his wife Joanie. "What's going on?"

"Lindsay called it in," Mac said, leading Flack through the living room and into the kitchen. "She and Danny were here to see if Danny could get some information from his friend Tommy, and a neighbour told them she hadn't seen either of them for a few days. When they approached the house, they saw the door was open and they came in and found this."

Flack looked over to where Mac was pointing. Just off the kitchen, a door stood open and Flack could see a set of stairs heading down into what he presumed was the basement. Taking a step forward, Flack peered down the stairs before turning back to Mac with a look of pure horror on his face.

"Jesus. And I thought the guy from this morning was bad."

"Yeah, well it get's better," Mac said grimly as he began to walk down the stairs, Flack following close behind. He kept his gaze focused on his feet, trying to avoid stepping in the pools of blood that had collected all over the floor. "I'll let Sid fill you in. Sid?" The tall, grey haired Medical Examiner looked up from where he was bent over the body of a young woman, snapping off his glasses and pushing himself to his feet. "What have you got for us?"

"Well, upon initial examination, it appears that this lovely young lady died from rapid blood loss due to this wound here," he crouched down once again and pointed to the long, jagged cut to the victim's neck. "Severed her jugular vein. Death would have been almost instantaneous. This poor fellow, however, was not so lucky." He stood and shuffled over to a second body, that of a young man. He was sitting strapped into a sturdy wooden chair – a chair which was bolted to the floor, no less – with leather restraints binding his arms and legs to the wooden frame. "As you can see, his eyes and his tongue were removed, both of which would have been extremely painful, although not necessarily fatal. It's possible he bled out, but it would have been slow, and it's more likely that he choked to death, suffocating in his own blood. I'll let you know once I've completed the autopsy."

"We got IDs on these two?" Flack asked. Mac nodded his head somberly. "Well? Who are they?"

"Based upon the photographic ID from their wallets upstairs, it appears we're looking at Tommy and Joanie Vanzella. I had Danny come down to confirm our findings, and despite the mutilation to his face, Danny was certain the male victim was Tommy."

"And the female?"

"Joanie Vanzella. Danny confirmed it."

"Shit," Flack breathed. "Can you imagine it, Mac? Coming out here just to try to talk to your friend and finding the two of them like this? That's rough. That's just fucking sick. How's he doing? Danny, I mean?"

"How would you be doing?" Mac asked.

"Not good."

"Exactly. He's outside with Lindsay right now. He was pretty worked up and he needed some time to calm down," Mac explained. "I'm going to send him home, have him take a few days off. I don't want him involved in this, he's too close to the victims."

Flack nodded, gazing around at the carnage before him. "Fuck, Mac. What happened here?"

"Well, we'll have to wait until we can analyze the blood samples from our victims back at the lab, but the wound on Joanie's neck is consistent with the arterial blood spatter pattern found on your John Doe's clothes."

"So… what? You're thinking this is our primary crime scene?"

"It's possible. But like I said, we'll need to run more tests before we can be sure." Mac paused, glancing around at the scene. "You see those pieces of rope over there on the floor? Again, we'll have to compare them to be sure, but I have a feeling they're going to be a match to the traces we found in the abrasions on John Doe's wrists. He was held here and beaten. Possibly even killed here, although we've found no evidence of a gun being fired. Yet. There's no casings, and John Doe's gunshot wound was a through-and-through and there's no bullet that we've been able to find. We'll keep looking though."

"Mac, this doesn't make sense. We've got three victims, three different methods of murder… whoever this guy is, he's all over the map. Killers stick to what they know. Once they find a way that works for them, they stick to it."

"Maybe this killer did find a way that worked for him, and the other two are collateral. Wrong place at the wrong time," Mac suggested.

"That's a valid hypothesis, Mac," Sid piped up from where he was loading the victims into body bags. He let his assistants take over, joining in on the two detectives' conversation. "For example, Tommy and John Doe would have both suffered, and I do mean suffered, from their injuries before they died. But Joanie… she was killed quickly, as if she was merely an afterthought. Like she didn't matter to the killer."

"Yeah, but John Doe was shot," Flack pointed out.

"Eventually, yes," Sid agreed. "But only after being tortured for over two days. It's almost as if he outlived his usefulness, and the killer just wanted to get rid of him after he got what he wanted."

"So, that would mean that Tommy was the actual target," Flack mused.

"It's a logical conclusion," Sid said. "He's the only one who wasn't, to use a vulgar term, put out of his misery. Whoever killed him wanted him to feel every last excruciating minute of his death."

"Okay, but we're making a big assumption here," Mac cautioned. "We're assuming that John Doe is somehow connected to these murders. I know that Danny found that pin, and that's what led him here… but we can't go jumping to conclusions before we have all the pieces of the puzzle. So, let's pack everything up and take it back to the lab."

"Alright," Flack said. "I'm gonna go upstairs and check on Danny. Then I'll take my guys and we'll start canvassing the neighbours. See if anyone saw or heard anything suspicious these past few days."

"Hawkes and Stella are processing the upstairs rooms," Mac said. "Tell them to come down here when they're done. I need all hands on deck for this one."

"And Lindsay?"

"Have her take Danny home. She can help Adam get the lab ready for when we arrive with all the evidence."

"Gotcha."

Flack gave Mac a quick nod before ascending the stairs in search of his friend.

* * *

The car ride back to Manhattan had been a quiet one. Lindsay drove and Danny sat in the passenger seat leaning back against the head rest with his eyes closed. Pulling up in front of his apartment building, Lindsay turned off the truck and took the opportunity to just look at him. He looked tired. And troubled.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you it's not polite to stare?"

Lindsay felt her cheeks burning at having been caught. She was glad for the relative darkness of the interior of the truck as it hid the full-face blush she knew had quickly spread across her cheeks.

"Sorry," she said, averting her gaze down to the centre console that separated them. "I was just wondering if you're still hungry. You wanna get that pizza before I have to go back to the lab?"

"Thanks, but no," he said. "I'm not really all that hungry anymore." He turned and looked at her, giving her a small, tired smile. "But I'll definitely take a rain check if you're still up for it another night."

"Danny, you need to eat something," Lindsay pressed.

"Fine. I'll make a sandwich when I get upstairs."

"You promise?"

"I promise," he replied. She could feel his eyes on her and she peeked at him out of the corner of her eye.

"What?"

"Thank you, Lindsay… for coming with me today," he said softly. "You didn't have to, you know."

"I know. But I wanted to. And despite what happened… I'm glad I was there with you. I know what it's like to find people that you care about… and they're gone…" She felt tears welling up in her eyes and she blinked hard to try to hold them back. "I would never want anyone to go through something like that alone."

Before she knew what was happening, Danny had raised the console between them had was holding her in his arms as she sobbed against his shoulder. She had no idea where this had come from. Tommy and Joanie… they weren't her friends. But they were Danny's, and she had recognized that blank stare on his face as he sat dazedly on the steps outside the Vanzella's home. She'd looked in the mirror enough times as a teenager – and again at the trial – seeing the same vacant look in her own eyes. She knew the pain he'd felt upon finding his friends and she'd felt it right along side him.

"Oh, God. Danny, I'm so sorry," she said, pulling back and wiping at her eyes. "You've lost your friends, and I'm the one blubbering like an idiot. I should go."

"Hey, Montana. Look at me." Lindsay shook her head, blowing her nose on a tissue retrieved from her pocket. "Lindsay, please. Look at me." She felt his hand on her cheek, gently turning her to face him. He was staring back at her, his blue eyes no longer blank and listless, but filled with all of the emotions that were currently bubbling just under the surface. "You don't gotta apologize, Linds. You got nothing to be sorry for, alright?" He gently skimmed his thumb across her cheek, catching the last of her tears and wiping them away.

Raising her own hand and placing it over his, she turned her head and pressed a kiss to his palm. She felt him shift beside her, his arm tightening around her waist and then his lips were on hers, fiery and passionate. She felt herself melting against his chest, her hands winding their way up into his hair, pulling him closer and holding him to her. She moaned with pent-up longing as he slid his tongue along her lower lip, much as he had done in the locker room that afternoon. But this time, neither of them pulled back and she parted her lips for him, a fire erupting inside of her as his tongue moved alongside hers. Pushing aside the horror they had stumbled upon that evening, Lindsay let herself feel nothing but Danny; his hands sliding slowly - almost tentatively - under the hem of her shirt, his tongue exploring the ridges of her mouth, his scent as she breathed him in.

She thought she heard a phone ringing, and she unwillingly pulled away, listening carefully.

"Shit. That's my phone," she said, fumbling in her purse for the cursed piece of technology that had cut short her time with Danny. "Monroe," she answered.

"Lindsay, where are you? Mac said you were coming back to the lab to help me out…"

"Sorry, Adam," she replied, trying to regulate her breathing, hoping that her breathlessness wouldn't be a dead giveaway as to what she had been doing before being interrupted. "I just dropped Danny off. I'm on my way now, okay? I'll see you in a few minutes."

"Okay. But hurry," Adam urged. "Mac called and they're starting to send over some of the photographs now, and I don't want to be swamped when the rest of the evidence arrives."

"Gotcha. I'll be there in ten minutes." Pressing the button to end the call, Lindsay leaned forward and rested her forehead against Danny's. "I gotta go," she mumbled. "Adam's waiting for me."

"Does it matter at all that I don't want you to go?"

Lindsay smiled, pecking him lightly on the lips. "It matters to me," she said. "But duty calls."

"I know," Danny sighed, his lips brushing tantalizingly against hers. "I'll see you at work tomorrow then?"

"What?" Lindsay sat back and looked at him in shock. "Danny… Mac told you to take a few personal days."

"Lindsay, I can't just sit up in my apartment and do nothing," he explained, running his hands through his hair. "I'll go crazy. I… I have to do something! Anything!" He sighed, shaking his head. "I know I can't help with the evidence from this case, but there's paperwork from other cases to do… I could clean beakers in the lab… I could reconfigure the GCMS…"

"Daniel Messer, if you tried to reconfigure the GCMS, Mac would skin you alive," Lindsay said. She took his hand in hers and squeezed his fingers. "I know it sucks, but you know if you come into the lab tomorrow you'll just want to help with the case, and Mac said no. You're too close, Danny. We can't risk compromising the investigation like that."

"Fine. If it will make you happy I'll stay home," he grumbled. "But just so you know, I'm gonna hate every minute of it."

"I'll check in on you tomorrow," Lindsay suggested helpfully. "Maybe bring you that pizza we missed out on today?"

"You don't gotta check on me, Linds. I can take care of myself."

"I know you can," she said. "But I want to. I'm your girl, remember? That's what I do."

He grinned at her and leaned in to kiss her once again, but she stopped him, placing a finger over his lips.

"No way, Messer," she chided him. "You do that and you're going to make it very hard for me to say goodbye to you."

"That was kind of my plan," he smirked, brushing aside her finger and planting a firm kiss to her lips before he turned and opened the door, stepping down onto the sidewalk.

"Bastard," she accused, a wide smile on her face. He shut the door and grinned at her through the passenger side window. "I'll see you tomorrow night."

He rapped his knuckles against the window twice before turning and heading up the front steps of his building. Lindsay let out a long sigh as she watched him go. She dug around in her purse for her Chapstick, needing help to soothe her swollen lips. As she felt around inside her bag, her hand fell upon something and she pulled it out, her expression softening as she realized what it was.

"Danny! Hey, Messer!" she called out as she rolled down the passenger window. Danny glanced over his shoulder at her from his front door, a smirk on his face as he sauntered back to the car.

"Can I help you?" he asked, leaning down and peering at her through the open window.

"I forgot to give you something," she said, causing him to raise his eyebrows. "Compliments of Mrs. P." She tossed the Ziploc bag full of homemade biscotti at him, laughing when it hit him right between the eyes.

"Ow!" he said, rubbing his forehead. "You know, you really shouldn't play with your food, Montana. It's rude."

"Apparently I missed that lesson," Lindsay answered as Danny reached inside the truck, picking up the biscotti from where it had landed on the passenger seat. "Enjoy your treat, Messer. And don't forget… pizza tomorrow."

"Alright, Linds. See ya."

She watched him until he disappeared inside his building before she turned the key in the ignition and headed back to the lab.

* * *

As Danny rode the elevator back up to his apartment, he couldn't resist. He opened the Ziploc bag and took out a piece of biscotti. Taking a large bite, he sighed at the familiar and delicious flavour. God, it had been forever since he'd tasted something that good. He quickly polished off the piece and was contemplating having a second when the elevator stopped and the doors slid open on his floor. He was actually getting pretty hungry and he decided that he should wait and enjoy the rest of his treat later, after eating the sandwich he'd promised Lindsay he'd make. Maybe he'd even save her a piece. After all, Mrs. P.'s biscotti was an experience everyone should have at least once in their lives.

He smiled to himself as he walked down the hall to his apartment. Lindsay. He'd only just left her, and he found himself missing her already. _You got it bad, Messer. Real bad_, he thought happily to himself. Lost in his musings, he was standing in front of his apartment door before he noticed that something wasn't right. He was so sure that when he'd left… God, when was it he'd last been home? Thinking back, he figured it had been at least two days; the nearly 24 hour shift he'd worked alongside Lindsay, the night he'd spent with her, followed by today.

He shoved the bag of biscotti in his pocket and drew his gun from the holster at his hip, gently nudging his front door - which had been left ajar - with the muzzle of his gun. His eyes went wide when he saw the chaos that had descended upon his formerly tidy home. Drawers had been dumped on the floor and rifled through, furniture was overturned, his photographs were smashed and his books lay in piles all over the floor. Someone had definitely been in here… and they'd been looking for something.

He slid the safety off his gun and stepped into the apartment, casting his eyes around warily in search of any sign that the invader was still present. He moved silently through the rooms, checking every nook and cranny. No one was there. He stood in the middle of what had once been his living room and gazed forlornly at the wreckage.

"Fuck," he sighed, holstering his weapon. "Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!" he exclaimed, each expletive louder than the last. "FUCK!"

Taking a deep breath, he reached for his phone, taking it out of his pocket with his finger poised to speed dial Mac's number. That's when he noticed it. The blinking red light on his answering machine indicating that he had a message. His mother had made him get the answering machine years ago, and he'd been meaning to get rid of the thing. Danny couldn't actually remember the last time someone had left a message on his landline. His number was unlisted, and everyone he was close to knew he worked long and strange hours, and that if they really needed to get in touch with him, they need only to call his cell. Taking a tentative step forward, Danny hoped against hope that it was just a telemarketer, just someone wanting to ask questions about his long distance plan. But the knot forming in the pit of his stomach told him that today just wasn't his day. He wasn't going to be that lucky.

Using the sleeve of his jacket to guard against damaging any potential prints, Danny reached out and pressed play. He heard his own voice leaving a greeting and asking whoever was calling to leave their name and number and he'd get back to them when he had a chance. Then there was a beep… and then the voice. The haunting voice from beyond the grave.

"_Um… hey, Danny. It's just me… it's Tommy. So, I know it's been a long time, man. Too long… but, I just… I need to talk to someone, and you're the only person I could think of that might be able to help me,"_ he heard Tommy sigh into the phone. _"Jesus, I feel like such an idiot. It's probably nothing, but you know Joanie… she won't let it go until I do something about it… Dan, I think someone's following me. Or us… I don't know. Maybe it's nothing, but I think someone's been in my house. Stuff's moved around. I don't think anything's missing, but… what's that honey?"_ By the way Tommy's voice faded slightly, Danny could tell he had moved the phone from his mouth to talk to Joanie and he could hear Tommy's side of their slightly muffled conversation. _"What? What do you mean it's gone? Did you check on my dresser? Shit! Fuck, Danny. My dad's pin… you know the one I mean? Yeah, Joanie says she can't find it… Fuck. I gotta go, Dan. Please, when you get this give me a call, okay? And maybe... I mean, I know you're busy, but we miss you out here, man. Come by sometime, alright?"_

Danny listened as the automated female voice informed him that he had no more messages. Wiping the tears from his eyes, he hit the button to save the message. And then he called Mac.

**

* * *

Poor Danny. Poor, poor Danny. But you know the old saying – when it rains, it pours. Let's just say that in the next few chapters, Danny is ****going to get drenched.**

**Your amazing feedback is very much appreciated, so please drop me a line and let me know what you thought!**

***rhymes***


	5. Home, Sweet Home

**A/N: Okay, show of hands out there. Who expected me to update again right away? Anyone? Didn't think so. I actually surprised myself with this one. I thought it was going to be a lot harder to write, but once I got going it was like - for lack of a better word - BOOM!**

**Your reviews and comments for the last chapter were so fantastic. Thank you so much! I did feel a little bad for leaving you on a cliffhanger in Chapter 3, only to leave you on such a down note at the end of Chapter 4. My apologies, my friends. I only hope that this next chapter (wow… Chapter 5 already?) will make up for it. Enjoy!**

* * *

Lindsay was two blocks from the lab when her phone rang. Stopping at an intersection, she fished the phone out of her purse, her heart beating wildly in her chest as she listened to Mac's words. She knew he was still talking, but she tuned him out the moment he told her Danny's apartment had been broken into. Flicking on the Avalanche's lights and sirens, she pulled an illegal U-turn in the middle of the road and began to double back the way she had come, all the while her mind racing.

_I shouldn't have let him go up on his own. Mac told me to make sure he got home safely. I should have gone up with him. I should have made sure he was okay._

Mac's voice rang sharply in her ear, pulling her out of the stupor she'd fallen into.

"Lindsay? Are you listening to me? Lindsay?"

"Yeah, sorry Mac," she said, honking the horn at the sedan in front of her that refused to let her pass. "Just trying to get through traffic. I'm listening."

"Go back to Danny's," he instructed her. "Take your kit and start processing. Flack's already on his way back to the lab, I'll call and reroute him to Danny's place. And Lindsay?"

"What?" she snapped, fighting the urge to give the yuppie in the sedan the finger when he finally pulled over and let her by.

"Look after Danny. Don't let him out of your sight, alright? Not until Flack gets there."

"Will do, Mac," Lindsay said, disconnecting the call and tossing her phone back into her purse. A few minutes later the truck skidded to a halt out front of Danny's building and Lindsay jumped out, grabbing her bag from the front seat and her kit from the back. She took his front stairs two at a time and began to buzz frantically at his intercom button. Her nerves began to rise exponentially inside of her when after several attempts, there was still no answer. Not knowing what else to do, she pressed the only other buzzer she knew.

"Hello? Who is it?" a sleepy female voice answered.

"Um… Rikki?" Lindsay asked, hoping she'd remembered Danny's neighbour's name correctly. "My name is Lindsay Monroe. We met a few weeks ago… I work with Danny – Detective Messer – at the crime lab. I need you to let me into the building."

"What? Why? Is something wrong?"

"Ma'am, please," Lindsay pleaded. "I need to get in."

"Why can't Danny let you in?"

"There's been an incident in his apartment and he's not answering… please!"

Lindsay breathed a sigh of relief as the door buzzed. Pulling it open, she jogged to the elevator and pressed the button, stepping inside the second the doors opened. She tapped her foot impatiently as she ascended to the third floor and when the doors slid apart, she flew down the hall to Danny's apartment.

He was sitting on the floor, slumped down just outside his open door with his knees drawn up to his chest. At the sound of her approaching footsteps he looked up and she could see that behind his glasses, his eyes were rimmed with red.

"Oh, Danny," she said, dropping her kit on the floor. "Oh, God. Are you alright?"

He shook his head mutely, pushing his glasses up on to his forehead and wiping at his eyes.

"Tommy called," he said.

"What?" Lindsay asked, unsure as to whether she'd heard him correctly. Surely he couldn't have just said that…

"Tommy called," he repeated. "I don't know when… sometime between when I was last home two days ago and… and when he… when…" His face crumpled and Lindsay's heart broke for him as he buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking with the effort of trying to hold back his sobs. "I should have been home... I should have done something..."

"Oh, honey." Lindsay felt tears springing to her own eyes and she knelt down beside him and pulled him into her arms. "Danny, I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry." She rocked him gently and he clung to her. She could feel his tears soaking through the fabric of her shirt and she held him tighter, not knowing what to say. She had no words for something like this. There was nothing she could say to make it better, to take away the pain he was feeling at this moment. So she held him, whispering nonsensical words in his ear that she hoped were soothing while she rubbed his back and gently stroked his hair.

Finally, he pulled back, swiping angrily at his eyes. "Shit… I'm sorry, Montana. I didn't mean to unload on you like that… God, you must think I'm such a…"

"Hey," Lindsay interrupted him, taking his face in her hands and forcing him to look at her. "Don't you even think about finishing that sentence, Messer. You are one of the strongest people I've ever met. The fact that you needed to show a little emotion doesn't make me think any less of you, okay? You got that, Danny?"

"Yeah," he replied, giving her a tight, watery smile as he pulled his glasses back down into place on the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, I got that." He leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers. "Thank you… for coming back."

"I told you," she said, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. "I'm your girl. It's what I do."

"Danny? Is everything okay?"

The pair of them broke apart, startled by the voice of a third person out in the hallway. Looking up, Lindsay saw Rikki Sandoval peeking out of her apartment a few doors down the hall.

"Yeah, Rikki. Thanks," Danny replied as he got to his feet, brushing off his jeans and giving her a wan smile. "Everything's fine."

"She said there was an incident at your place," Rikki said pointing at Lindsay. "What happened?"

"Just a burglary. Nothing to worry about," he reassured her. "You can go back to bed. I'm sorry we bothered you."

She gave the two of them a wary glance, clearly not believing that everything was as fine as Danny was trying to make it out to be.

"Well… if you're sure…"

"I'm sure, Rikki. Go back to sleep. You gotta be up with Ruben in the morning."

"Danny, if… if you need a place to stay…"

"That's alright, I'll be alright," he said. "But thanks. I appreciate the offer."

"Okay," she said, her voice full of uncertainty. "But if you need anything…"

"I know where you live. Thanks, Rikki. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Danny. Goodnight…"

"Lindsay."

"Goodnight Lindsay."

Lindsay waved her farewell to the young woman. Then she bent to retrieve her kit from the floor.

"She seems nice. Very friendly," she remarked casually as she let Danny lead her into the disaster area that had formerly been his living room. "And pretty." He looked at her askance, raising his eyebrows.

"She's just a friend, Lindsay. You got nothing to worry about."

"Who says I'm worried?"

"Your tone says you're worried."

"Well I'm not," she said haughtily as she snapped on a pair of latex gloves, irked that she'd been so blatantly transparent.

"Good. You shouldn't be." He bent and placed a quick kiss to her cheek before he took her on a tour of his ransacked apartment, pointing out all the things that were destroyed and keeping his distance as she carefully handled any potential evidence.

She listened to the haunting voicemail, feeling her chest constrict at Tommy's plaintive plea for help and his genuine desire to see his old friend again. She hazarded a peek at Danny out of the corner of her eye and saw his jaw clenched tightly as he fought to keep a hold on his emotions. When the message was finished, Lindsay meticulously dusted the unit for fingerprints and examined it for other trace before bagging it and entering it into her evidence log.

She then followed him down the short hallway to his bedroom where the contents of his closet had been dumped on the floor and his dresser overturned. She glanced at his bed, the bedding of which had been torn from the mattress and was lying in tatters in the corner of the room. Lindsay knew that every inch of his apartment would be thoroughly searched for foreign hairs, fibres… and fluids. She said a secret, silent prayer of thanks that she had chosen to take him back to her apartment last night, instead of allowing him to lead her to his. She wasn't sure if she was ready to have the rest of the team know about the two of them yet, and that certainly wasn't the way she wanted them to find out.

Moving back into the living room, she began to dust for fingerprints, Danny standing watch from the doorway while she worked. He was very quiet, and she knew that this was hard for him. He was an intensely private person, not someone who let others in easily. And to have anyone, even herself – someone he had chosen to let further into his life than most – pawing through his personal effects had to be torture for him. She tried to ignore the feeling of his eyes on the back of her head as she bent to retrieve a picture from where it had fallen behind his desk. Straightening up, she saw that this picture seemed to have been damaged far worse than the others. Those had large cracks in them, most likely from the impact when they hit the hardwood floor. But this one… this one had a distinct high pressure impact point right in the centre, indicating that someone had smashed it intentionally, possibly by punching it or hitting it with some other blunt object.

She crossed the living room, stepping carefully around the shards of glass and bits of debris that littered the floor, toward where Danny was standing.

"Danny, look at this," she said, holding the broken picture out for him to see. He instinctively reached out to take it, then remembered he wasn't meant to touch anything. He curled his fingers into a fist and crossed his arms over his chest, frowning down at the photo in her hand. "It looks like whoever did this really didn't like this picture."

"Wow. You think?" he asked and Lindsay was taken aback by the sarcasm in his tone. He must have sensed that he had misspoken, and he quickly backpedalled. "Jesus, I'm sorry, Montana. I didn't mean for it to come out like that. It's just…" he sighed, clenching his fists, his arms still crossed tightly over his chest. "I hate this. I hate that I don't know what's going on. I hate that someone was in my house, touching my stuff… hell, fucking ruining my stuff, and I have no idea why! I don't have anything that anyone would want. I don't have money. I don't have expensive art. I don't even have a TV or a computer that are worth stealing. And then in Tommy's message, he said he thought someone had been in his house…" He shook his head and threw his arms in the air in a gesture of frustration and helplessness. "I'm probably reading too much into it. It's probably just a coincidence, but I can't… I can't help but think that they're related. That whoever was in Tommy's house was also in mine…"

"Danny, I know this is a lot to take in," Lindsay said, giving him a sympathetic smile. "I know you're tired and under a lot of stress right now, and that under circumstances like these, sometimes… well, sometimes we start to see connections where there aren't any."

"What?" he shouted, then realized the door was open into the hallway and he needed to be more mindful of the volume of his voice. He continued more softly, although no less aggrieved. "Are you… are you saying that you don't believe me?" The incredulity and hurt in his voice made Lindsay's stomach twist uncomfortably.

"No, Danny. No," she hastened to reassure him. "That's not what I'm saying at all. It's just… it's a valid theory. But we can't start connecting things together before we have the evidence to back it up. You know that."

He stared defiantly back at her for a moment before his resolve began to crumble. His shoulders sagged and he leaned against the wall behind him, hanging his head.

"I know. I'm sorry," he mumbled. Her expression softened and she took a step closer to him, raising her gloved hand and giving his arm a gentle and supportive squeeze.

"It's alright," she said. "I know this is hard, but I need you to focus. What is it about this picture that would anger someone enough to want to destroy it like this?"

He looked forlornly at her before turning his gaze to the picture in her hand, shaking his head. "I don't know."

"Here, let me take it out of the frame. Can you tell me what it's a picture of?"

She slid the photograph from it's frame and held it so they both could see.

"That's me in the front." He blushed, pointing to a much younger version of himself; short and skinny with large ungainly spectacles and a tuft of unruly blond hair. Despite the circumstances, Lindsay couldn't help but smile at the image, nudging Danny playfully with her elbow.

"Wow. A real looker, even back then."

"Shut up. Don't judge me. I was just a kid and hadn't discovered girls yet." He winked at her and then turned his attention back to the picture. "And that's Tommy beside me. And in the back are Paul Cugini and Gus Del Vecchio. The four of us were real tight as kids. And that's Tommy's dad there, Leo Vanzella." He pointed to an older man who was standing smiling in the midst of his son and his friends. Taking out a magnifying lens, Lindsay was able to recognize the tiny pin that had been the start of this whole mess shining brightly from his lapel. "The picture was taken in front of his store. I think it might have been the day he received his award for bravery, but I can't be sure."

Flipping the picture over, Lindsay noted the date on the back. August 16, 1985.

"1985… so you would have been, what? Seven? Eight?"

"Seven going on eight. My birthday was about a week later."

So Danny's birthday was in August? Lindsay tucked that little nugget away in the back of her mind for consideration down the road. She looked back down at the picture, refocusing her thoughts on their current task.

"Danny, is this the only picture you have of the group of you together?" Lindsay asked.

"I think so," he answered thoughtfully. "Well, the only one in a frame anyway. My ma's got albums full of me and Louie growing up, and I'm sure there's a few pictures of all of us in there somewhere."

"But this is the only one that you have?"

"Yeah… why?"

"Well… Tommy's in this picture. So are you, and so is the pin… Do you see where I'm going with this?"

"We may have just found our connection?" he asked.

"Boom," Lindsay said and he gave her the first genuine smile she'd seen from him since she'd arrived to find him out in the hall.

"You took the word right out of my mouth, Montana."

She grinned at him as she slid the photograph and frame into separate evidence bags, sealing and labeling them before placing them in her kit along with the other items she had collected. She turned back to Danny only to see him stretch and let out a long, drawn-out yawn.

"Oh, Danny. You must be exhausted," Lindsay said as she stepped toward him.

"Nah… I'm good," he said, trying in vain to stifle yet another yawn. "Catching my second wind now…"

"You're not fooling anyone, Messer," Lindsay chided him as his eyes began to droop. "You need to sleep." He grunted in protest, but the fact that he was leaning heavily against the wall with his eyes closed belied his remonstrations. "Just let me finish up here. Flack should be arriving soon with a uni to guard the door, then I can take you back to my place if you want… I mean, um… I'd have to come back here to finish up, but you're… well, you're welcome to stay with me."

"Yeah?" he asked, his eyes cracking open as he gave her a sly look. "You thinking of taking advantage of me while I'm in a vulnerable state, Montana?" She smacked him hard in the chest and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as his lips brushing against her ear. "Cause I gotta tell you… if that's your plan, I'm kinda looking forward to it."

"God, you are such an ass," she giggled as he teased her neck with his stubbled cheek. "Here I am trying to be nice and you go and turn it all… all dirty."

"Well, we all love to do what we're good at," he chuckled, his breath hot against the skin of her neck. He pulled back and gazed down at her, his expression suddenly serious. "Do you really mean it?" he asked. "You want me to stay with you?"

"I really do, Danny. Why? Do you… do you not want to? Stay with me, I mean?"

"I want to, Linds…"

"But?"

"But this is really new for me. We're really new," he sighed, gently skimming his fingers through her hair. "I like you… a lot. But I don't… I don't want you to get tired of me."

"Not possible, Messer," she said, smiling as she leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. Heedless of their surroundings, the kiss quickly intensified, their hands groping at one another as their tongues dueled. At the sound of authoritative footsteps approaching down the hall, they broke apart, both of their faces flushed and their breaths coming in panting gasps. Lindsay took a step back, licking her lips and bending over her kit, intent on looking busy. She could still taste him on her tongue and she wanted nothing more than to turn back to him and pick up right where they had left off, but she knew she couldn't.

She looked up in time to see Flack walk through the door, giving a low whistle as he glanced around at the damage to his friend's apartment.

"Whoa… I love what you've done with the place, Danno. Very bohemian."

"Fuck you," Danny spat back. Lindsay couldn't help but wonder if he was more upset at Flack's jibe or at the fact that they had been interrupted – yet again – before they could get carried away.

"Sorry, man," Flack said, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I couldn't resist." He reached into his pocket and tossed something at Danny. "Here. To make amends."

Lindsay watched out of the corner of her eye as Danny held up a key ring with two keys on it.

"The big one gets you into the building, the small one is for the door to my place," Flack explained. "Angell's waiting in the car downstairs to take you over there and make sure you get settled. There will be a uni outside the door all night."

Danny stared back at Flack, then glanced down at the keys in his hand before looking back at Flack.

"I believe the standard response would be 'Thank you, Don'," Flack continued. "But I guess stunned silence works too. Now get going. Angell's waiting. I'll see you in the morning."

Danny took one last fleeting look at Lindsay, hesitating momentarily before giving her a small smile and a wave. She watched him disappear out the doorway and listened to his footsteps as he walked down the hall.

"Oh, and don't touch any of my stuff!" Flack called out after him. "And don't even think about sleeping in my bed. That's off limits."

Lindsay heard Danny reply with a non-committal grunt before his footsteps faded away completely and she heard the sound of the elevator doors sliding closed.

"So, Monroe… what do we got?" Flack asked, rubbing his hands together. With a sigh, Lindsay refocused her thoughts and began to lead Flack through all the evidence she had collected so far, starting with the photograph.

**

* * *

There now. You see? I can end a chapter without leaving you dangling from a cliff. **

**After re-reading this chapter, I realize that we didn't really get a lot of information about the case (Tommy, Joanie, and John Doe) in this one… but my intention with this one was more to deepen the connection between Danny and Lindsay as well as tie the murders and Danny's break-in together. I hope I accomplished that feat. I'd really appreciate your feedback and as usual, all comments are welcome!**


	6. The Good, The Bad, and the Sleepless

**A/N: Hello, my lovelies! **

**Sorry for the delay in getting this next chapter to you. I had a very definite idea as to how I wanted this chapter to go, but as usual, the muse had other plans. So we argued and I stubbornly refused to see things her way until she threw a giant wall of writer's block at me. Finally, I gave in and just let her have her way. One of these days I'm going to have to grow a spine and stand up to her… but today is not that day. ; )**

**Thank you so much to those of you who reviewed Chapter 5. I can't thank you enough for the support and love I'm getting for this story. I hope you all enjoy this next instalment, and rest assured that more is on its way!**

* * *

Lindsay trudged tiredly down the hall to her apartment. She was beyond exhausted after spending the majority of the night processing Danny's apartment, only then to take the little she'd found there back to the lab to go over with Mac. There were no fingerprints, fibres, hairs… nothing at Danny's apartment that shouldn't have been. Aside from the picture and the message from Tommy, Lindsay didn't have a lot to work with. She'd shown Mac the picture, explaining its possible significance and the potential connection between the break-in at Danny's and the murders of Tommy and Joanie Vanzella. He'd seemed sceptical, not wanting to jump to conclusions, but he'd given her the go-ahead to run with it and see what she came up with.

She'd run checks on Gus Del Vecchio and Paul Cugini, hoping that talking to them would give her some idea as to why the intruder would have focused on that picture in particular, smashing it when all the other pictures in the apartment had suffered only incidental damaged when they'd been tossed to the floor. But try as she might, she couldn't reach them. She spoke with Gus's mother – with whom he still lived – only to be told that he and Paul had left three days ago for a fishing trip with some friends and weren't expected back until tomorrow afternoon. She had gotten the names of the other people on the boat and confirmed their story. So talking to Paul and Gus would have to wait.

She'd spent the next little while going through Danny's phone records for the past two days, trying to determine when Tommy Vanzella had called. As she scrolled through the records, she felt a wave of guilt wash over her for prying further into Danny's life. She knew it was necessary, that she was doing it not only for him but also to try to narrow down the time-line for Tommy's death, but it didn't make her feel any better. Fortunately, as Danny had explained to her the night before, he didn't get a lot of calls to his landline, making her unpleasant task all the more brief.

She'd wanted to call Danny all day, but found herself stymied at every turn. Each time she'd gone to dial his number, something had come up, or someone had walked into her office hoping for a moment of her time to go over some detail of the case. Then Mac had called a meeting in the conference room to go over all the evidence they'd collected for the Vanzella/John Doe cases and Lindsay had once again had to put off her call to Danny for a later time.

Lindsay sighed as she jammed her key into the lock of her apartment door. She'd tried to call him again on the way home, but found to her dismay that her phone had died. She didn't have a landline herself, so once again, talking to him would have to wait until her phone had a chance to recharge. She kicked off her shoes and flung her jacket in the direction of her coat tree, too tired to care if it hit the hook or landed on the floor. She went into the bedroom and shrugged out of her clothes, trading them for her favourite pair of fuzzy pyjamas and her housecoat. Then she dug around in one of her drawers until she found her spare phone charger – the other one having been left in her office at work. She plugged it in to the outlet in her living room and collapsed onto the couch, letting her mind drift back to the conference she'd just come from.

She had been surprised to see Sid Hammerback at the meeting – he usually passed his findings on to one of the detectives working the case, preferring to stay safely hidden down in the morgue. But he'd apparently taken a vested interest in the case and wanted to present the information he'd gathered in person. He stood at the front of the room, outlining his findings after completing the autopsies. It appeared that Joanie Vanzella had died approximately 24 hours before Lindsay and Danny had arrived at their home, mercifully bleeding out quickly from the ugly gash to her neck. Tommy, however, had suffered greatly. While his injuries had been sustained at approximately the same time as his wife's death, he had held on for another 10 to 12 hours before he took his last, torturous breath.

Listening to Sid, Lindsay couldn't help but feel her chest constrict painfully. From what they could determine, between the times of death and the location of the bodies, Tommy had witnessed his wife's murder before the killer had begun the gruesome process of removing his eyes and tongue. Even more disturbing was the fact that none of the missing body parts had been left at the scene – the killer having taken them with him after he was done with the young couple, leaving not a trace behind him.

Sid had continued, advising the team that while he still had no idea as to the identity of their John Doe, he was currently running a search through the state's dental records looking for a match. He had been able to determine that the victim was approximately 55 to 60 years old and in fairly good shape when he died. Hawkes had checked with Missing Persons, but so far there was no one that fit their victim's description.

Adam was next, nervously confirming what they had all presumed to be true; the female DNA found on John Doe's clothing belonged to Joanie Vanzella, which meant that he had also been witness to her murder. His blood had also been found in their basement and the ropes Mac had discovered were indeed a match to the fibrous trace recovered from the abrasions on John Doe's wrists. It was official now. The two cases were connected.

Lindsay had briefly gone over her findings regarding Danny's phone records, placing the time of Tommy's call at 8:57 am on Friday morning. John Doe had been found early Saturday morning, and Tommy and Joanie Saturday night. Then they had all listened in stunned silence as Lindsay played back the message from Danny's answering machine. When it finished playing, Lindsay glanced surreptitiously at the assembled group around her, their shock and sorrow for Danny and his friend evident upon their faces. For a moment, no one said a word and Lindsay was certain she heard a quiet sniffling coming from Stella's direction.

A loud buzzing noise jolted Lindsay's eyes open. She glanced at her watch, realizing that she must have fallen asleep on the couch, nearly two hours having passed since she'd come home. The buzzer sounded again and Lindsay realized it was someone outside her building wanting to be let in. She sighed as she got to her feet. She really hoped it wasn't Flack or someone else from the lab calling her into work again. She grabbed her now fully-charged phone from its resting place on the coffee table, a smile spreading across her face as she saw that while she had been sleeping, she'd missed a call. From Danny. She closed the distance to the wall-mounted intercom beside the door, her heart beating wildly in her chest as she pressed the button to speak to whoever was outside.

* * *

Danny paced back and forth anxiously outside Lindsay's building. She'd said that she would come and check on him after her shift, and he had called the lab to make plans with her, only to be told she'd already left. So he'd waited at Flack's place, willing his phone to ring. When he hadn't heard from her after an hour, he'd tried calling her cell, but there had been no answer. So he'd decided to take the bull by the horns and go to her apartment, hoping she was home and that she'd remembered the "date" they'd made the day before. After buzzing twice, his optimism began to wane. Either she wasn't home or… shit. She was probably sleeping. _Of course she's sleeping, you idiot,_ he chastised himself. _She was up all night sorting out the mess at your place and then at work all damn day._

With his shoulders slumped he turned to head back down the street. He'd get a cab back to Flack's place and spend yet another sleepless night tossing and turning on his lumpy and uncomfortable couch. As he reached the bottom step, his ears perked up at the sound of a voice calling his name over the intercom.

"Danny?"

It was tinny and staticky, but it was definitely her voice. He nearly tripped over his own feet in his haste to get back up the stairs. He caught himself just in time, steadying himself with one hand on the railing while the other reached out to press the intercom button.

"Yeah, Montana. It's me."

"Come on up."

Seconds later, the front door buzzed and Danny pulled it open, striding across the small foyer and stepping into the elevator. He bounced excitedly on the balls of his feet as he ascended to her floor, having to use all his self restraint to keep himself from running down the hall once the doors slid open. He managed to maintain his composure, walking at a pace that was slightly faster than dignified, a wide smile on his face as he saw her standing in her doorway waiting for him.

"Hey," he said as he approached her, his heart doing a little flip-flop as he saw that despite the dark circles under her eyes, she seemed genuinely happy to see him. "I hope I didn't wake you," he nodded to her attire.

"What? Oh no. I wasn't sleeping," she replied, pulling him into a tight hug. "What are you doing here?"

"Um… well, we… uh…"

"Oh, God!" Lindsay gasped, smacking her forehead with the palm of her hand. "Oh, shit. I forgot! I was going to come see you after work." She smiled sheepishly up at him. "I'm so sorry, Danny. I completely forgot."

"That's alright," he assured her, letting her lead him into her apartment. He slipped off his shoes and jacket as she locked the door behind them. "I figured you might be kinda tired after your long night and day… and you know what they say. If Mohammed won't come to the mountain, the mountain must come to Mohammed."

"Hmm…" she sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck and smiling up at him. "A mountain, huh? You certainly think a lot of yourself."

"Yeah, well I didn't hear you complaining the other night," he murmured, lowering his head to capture her lips in a gentle kiss. She sighed, tightening her grip on him and pulling him closer. He could feel her fingers sifting through the fine hairs on the back of his neck, and the sensation sent a shiver down his spine. He felt Lindsay smile against his lips and she pulled back, resting her head against his chest.

"I'm really sorry I forgot, Danny," she said. "But I'm so glad you remembered."

"It's probably better this way anyway," Danny said, leaning his cheek against the top of her head, his hands gently rubbing her back as he held her to him. "Flack got home a few hours ago and if you'd shown up, he would have wanted to know why I was ditching him to spend time with you." He pressed a kiss to her temple and she smiled up at him. "And I'm not sure I'm ready to share this with anyone else just yet. I kind of like having you all to myself."

"Oh yeah?" she asked, smiling coyly at him. "You like having me as your dirty little secret?"

"Secret, yes," he replied, trailing a string of kisses from her temple down to her neck, his lips brushing against the soft skin just below her ear. "As for the dirty part… well, that's up to you, Montana."

"God, I missed you today," she said, tilting her head and exposing more of her neck for his lips to explore. "I was so worried about you… and I wanted to talk to you so badly, Danny. I don't know how many times I tried to call you, but something always came up, and then my phone died and I fell asleep on the couch…"

"What? I thought you said I didn't wake you up," Danny said, pulling back and staring down at her. "You said you weren't sleeping."

"Well… I didn't mean to go to sleep," she amended, her cheeks flushing slightly at having been caught in her white lie. "I just kind of dozed off. I'm not tired, Danny. I promise."

"Linds…"

"What about you?" she said, interrupting his protest. "You look exhausted too. Did you get any sleep at all last night?"

Danny hesitated, not sure how much he wanted to share with her about last night. He knew she was already worried about him, and he didn't want to make it worse. He felt a small hand on his cheek, and he looked down to see a pair of concerned brown eyes staring back at him.

"Danny?"

"I see their faces, Linds. Every time I close my eyes, they're right there. And I can hear Tommy's voice begging for me to help them…" He blinked hard, trying to hold back the frustrated and angry tears that he could feel prickling behind his eyes.

"Oh, Danny," she whispered, her fingers gently wiping away the lone tear that trickled down his cheek. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He leaned forward, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against hers as he let out a deep sigh.

"I'm alright," he said. "I really am. It's just… it's hard. I felt so useless all day, stuck in Flack's apartment when I knew that everyone else was out there doing something. I want to help so badly. And the worst part was that I had nothing to take my mind off of them, Montana. Flack doesn't have the internet, he doesn't have any good books… and he has the girliest fucking DVD collection I've ever seen in my entire life, and that includes my 17-year old cousin Angela." He opened his eyes, smiling ruefully at her. "I mean _Sleepless in Seattle_? Seriously? The man really needs to grow a pair."

She chuckled lightly at his comment, but then her expression turned serious.

"I get that maybe you don't feel like talking about it right now," she began. "But promise me that when you do, you'll come to me. Please? I just… you were there for me when no one else was, Danny. Let me do the same for you. Lean on me when you need me, okay?"

"I didn't do what I did for you because I expected anything in return, Lindsay."

"I know you didn't," she said. "I know. But… I feel like all I did for so long was just take from you. I took your friendship and your support, and I never gave anything back." Danny opened his mouth to protest, but she silenced him, placing a finger to his lips. "No, listen to me, Danny. Are you listening?" He nodded his head and she removed her finger, cupping his face in her hands. "I care about you so much. I have for a long time, long before you came to Montana for me. But I kept telling myself that I didn't deserve you; that I would only drag you down with me… so I pushed you away. I know that I hurt you, but you have to know that I hurt myself too. I denied myself the one thing that I really wanted and needed." She raised herself up on her toes, pressing a brief kiss to his lips. "And I was so miserable, Danny. I wanted to talk to you so many times, but I just couldn't. I didn't want to be a burden…"

"You were never a burden, Lindsay. Ever."

"I know that now," she said, smiling at him. "You've made that very clear. But I need you to know that you're not a burden either. I want you, Danny. All of you. The good and the bad. I want to be there for you, to be your shoulder to cry on, or the person who makes you laugh when you feel like crap, just like you were for me."

Danny stared silently back at her, and Lindsay began to wonder if she'd gone too far, if she'd said too much. Their conversation had been light and flirtatious, and then she'd had to go and make everything so serious… she'd freaked him out, she could tell. He wasn't looking for this; he wasn't looking for serious. What had he said to her all those months ago? Dinner, drinks and some laughs? Well, now she'd be lucky if she even got that.

She opened her mouth to apologize, knowing it was too late to take back what she'd said, but hoping she could fix it before he had the chance to take off. But Danny was faster, suddenly snapping out of his silent contemplation.

"Do you mean that?" he asked softly. "Everything you just said… that's what you want?" Lindsay slowly nodded her head, her eyes averted, not wanting to see the look on his face.

His lips were on hers in an instant, his arms holding her tightly as she melted against his chest. She opened her lips to allow his tongue access to her mouth, moaning with longing as he tilted his head to deepen their kiss. She let out a shriek of surprise when Danny picked her up, carrying her over to the couch where he sat down with her perched on his lap. She could feel the beginnings of his erection pressing against her hip and it sent a shiver of anticipation racing down her spine. She shifted slightly, brushing against the crotch of his jeans and he groaned at the contact. His hand slid up her thigh and he clutched at her pyjama-clad backside.

"Montana," he panted, his lips making their way from her mouth and down her neck to the divot at the base of her throat, "I want everything you said. I want all of you, Lindsay. I always have."

He wanted what she wanted? He wanted them, just as she did? At his words, an urgency surged up inside Lindsay. Suddenly, she needed him to touch her, she needed to feel his hands on her skin, his body moving against hers. She untied the belt that bound her housecoat around her waist, shrugging the bulky garment from her shoulders before moving on to unfasten the topmost button of her pyjama top, then the next and the next until she reached the bottom. She shrugged the shirt off her shoulders, letting it drop to the floor beside the couch, her upper body exposed to him.

Taking Danny by his wrists, she slid his hands up to her chest, placing his palms against her breasts. She closed her eyes and bit her lip as he began to knead her tender flesh. She sighed, running her fingers through his hair as he took a nipple into his mouth and began to suck and lave at the sensitive nub until he'd worked it into a hard peak. While his mouth moved on to her other breast, Danny shifted them so that she was reclining against the arm of the couch, their bodies tangled together atop the cushioned seat. He began to trail his kisses down her stomach, pausing when he reached the waistband of her pyjama bottoms. He looked up at her, his chin resting on her belly, and smiled.

"You are so damn beautiful, Montana. Do you know that?" he asked.

"You make me feel beautiful, cowboy," she replied, wondering if he'd remember the nickname she'd given him all those months ago. It had been a simple, off-the-cuff remark on her part, and before now she'd never worked up the courage to call him that again, although she'd wanted to many times. The devilish grin he'd given her up on that rooftop had set her body to tingling and she'd spent many nights hoping to see that grin again; the same grin he was giving her right now as he crawled back up her body.

"Cowboy, huh? You have no idea how fuckin' sexy that is," he drawled before he plundered her mouth with his tongue, one hand slipping beneath the drawstring waist of her pants while the other continued to attend to her breasts. She gasped as his fingers connected with her clit, sliding between her wet folds. Lindsay writhed beneath him, her fingers desperately fumbling with the tiny buttons on the front of his shirt as he worked her into a frenzy with his hands and his mouth. He began to move his body against hers, slowly gyrating his pelvis against her hip and she could feel his desire raging for her. She wanted nothing more that to touch his skin, to run her hand over his chest, down his flat stomach and into his pants, but she had to get damn shirt to come off first.

"Just fuckin' rip it, babe," he growled in her ear. "I got other shirts."

She hesitated for only a moment, feeling a slight sense of guilt at ruining a perfectly good shirt. Fortunately, the moment quickly passed and Lindsay fisted the fabric in her hands, tugging forcefully until she heard a loud, satisfying rip and the sound of buttons skittering across the floor as they flew off in different directions all over the room. He pushed himself up off her just long enough to pull his arms from the tattered remains of his shirt, flinging it to the ground, followed closely by his wifebeater and Lindsay took the opportunity to reach out and unfasten his belt.

She sat up, pressing lapping kisses to his chest while she worked on undoing his button and fly. Once he was undone, she tugged his jeans and boxers down around his thighs and she heard him sigh with relief upon being freed from his constrictive clothing. She placed her hand on his chest, her fingers tracing intricate swirls along his torso as she wound her way down to his erection. She wrapped her hand around his cock and began to stroke him, feeling him harden even further at her touch.

He stared down at her, watching her pump him with one hand while the other slipped underneath to caress his balls. Her hands felt so good. Too good, actually.

"Oh, God," he panted. "Baby, I'm not gonna last if you keep doing that."

Lindsay smiled coyly up at him, giving him a final squeeze before she removed her hands, shimmying out of her pyjama bottoms and laying back on the couch, gazing up at him invitingly.

He kicked his legs free of his jeans then reached down into his back pocket, grabbing his wallet and flipping it open. He dug around inside the bill fold, pulling out the condom he kept there. He heard Lindsay giggle and he looked down at her, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

"For emergencies," he said by way of an explanation. Danny tossed his wallet to the coffee table and tore open the plastic packaging. Lindsay grabbed the condom from his hands, sliding the latex sheath over his hardened length. Then she gripped him by the hips so that he was positioned at her entrance. He braced himself with his hands on the arm of the couch as he slid into her, her body arching up off the cushions and a loud, lusty moan escaping from her lips as he began to move.

He tried to go slow, but her fingers clutching at his hips and her own pelvis thrusting up to meet him soon had him pounding into her at a frantic pace. Lindsay slid her hands up his back, her fingernails digging into his skin, pulling him down so his body was flush with hers and she sought out his mouth with her own, capturing his lips in a fierce and passionate kiss. Danny could feel her inner walls pulsating around him and he knew she was close… but he was closer and he didn't want to leave her disappointed and unsatisfied.

He slipped one hand between them, rubbing her clit with his thumb in time with their movements. The change in Lindsay was almost instantaneous, and she wrapped her legs around his hips, her body jerking wildly beneath him as the first waves of her orgasm began to wash over her.

"Oh, God… Danny! Ohmygod! Ohmygod! Ohmygod!" she panted, breaking away from their kiss and throwing her head back against the pillowed armrest. As she spiralled into oblivion, her walls tightened around him, squeezing him hard as he continued to move within her, so close to his own release. Lindsay scratched her nails down his back, screaming his name as her orgasm reached its peak, the sounds and sensations of her climax quickly overwhelming him. Danny felt his body begin to shake and tremble and he closed his eyes, giving her a few more deep thrusts before he came.

"Montana… oh… oh, God… Lindsay!"

Completely spent, he lowered his head, resting his forehead against her shoulder as he tried to regulate his breathing. He could feel her chest heaving beneath him and her hands gently skimming up and down his back, in such contrast to the tight grip she'd had on him only moments before. He felt her breath on his neck as she whispered in his ear.

"Danny, oh my God… that was… you are… just, oh my God."

He chuckled against her shoulder, pushing himself up tentatively on still-shaky arms and grinning down at her. "Cat got your tongue?" he asked, cocking his eyebrow at her.

"Shut up," she said, smacking his shoulder with her hand. "My tongue is just fine, thank you very much." She stuck her tongue out at him to prove her point. He pressed a kiss to her forehead before untangling himself from her grasp and getting to his feet. He reached down and grabbed her housecoat from the floor, holding it out for her. She stood and slipped her arms inside while Danny wrapped it around her tiny body from behind, fastening the tie at the waist and pressing soft kisses to her neck.

"Just so you know," he said, his lips brushing against her skin, "You blow me away, Montana. That was amazing."

She sighed, turning in his arms and leaning against his chest, her head tucked into the crook of his neck. They held each other for a moment, until Danny became very aware of the fact that he was standing naked in her living room. He pulled back, blushing slightly as he bent down to grab his jeans before heading to the bathroom to discard of the condom. When he was done, he pulled on his jeans and glanced at his watch, noting the time.

Re-entering the living room, he grabbed his wallet from where he had dropped it on the coffee table and pulled out a twenty.

"What's that for?" Lindsay asked as she gathered their clothes from the floor.

"Pizza's gonna be here soon," he said, taking his wifebeater from the pile of clothing in her arms and pulling it over his head. She cocked her head to the side, looking at him quizzically. "What?"

"When… did you order pizza?" she asked.

"Um… when I was on my way over here," he said.

"That was pretty bold of you," she teased, shaking her head at him. "What if I'd turned you away?"

"Yeah, well I guess I didn't really think that far ahead," he said, shrugging his shoulders and grinning at her. "Lucky for me, you didn't."

Any comment she would have made was lost when the intercom buzzed loudly, announcing the arrival of their pizza. She pressed the button to let the delivery guy into the building and a few minutes later they were sitting side by side on the couch, hungrily devouring their dinner.

"Oh, God… this is so good," Lindsay said, licking the excess tomato sauce from her fingers after finishing her third slice. "They don't make pizzas like this in Montana. I can see why you like this place so much."

"Yeah. Ray's is the best," Danny said, washing down his fourth slice with a beer from Lindsay's fridge.

When they'd both had their fill, Lindsay put the leftovers away in the kitchen and grabbed a blanket from the back of her armchair. Danny had sprawled out on the couch and she nestled herself on top of him, wrapping them both in the blanket. She turned on the TV, flicking through the channels until she settled on the sports highlights. She rested her head against his chest, feeling her eyes begin to droop as his fingers toyed absently with her hair.

"You know," she said sleepily as she nuzzled further into him. "A little birdy once told me that you don't cuddle."

"I don't," he said matter-of-factly.

She scoffed, peering up at him and smiling at the sly grin on his face.

"Oh yeah? Well what do you call this?" she challenged.

"This? This is snuggling. It's totally different."

"Oh my God. You are so busted, Messer," she teased.

"Whatever," he chucked, pulling the blanket tighter around them. "I know it's different, and that's all that matters."

She sighed, settling herself down on him once again. The images on the screen became blurry as she fought to keep her eyes open. She could hear Danny's heart beating rhythmically beneath his ribs, the gentle weight of his hand on her back and the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. She lifted her head and saw that he had fallen asleep, his features peaceful and free from the worries of the past few days. She smiled, pressing a kiss to his chin before she lowered her head and closed her own eyes.

She knew it wouldn't be easy, getting him to let her in completely. But then again, she hadn't made it easy on him either, all those months she'd kept him at bay. But this was a huge step in the right direction. He was here with her, and despite the horrors of the previous day, it made her enormously happy that he found enough comfort in her arms to allow himself the rest he dearly needed. And that was enough for today.

**

* * *

So? What do we think?**

**I feel like I kind of rushed through the case part at the beginning, for which I apologize. The muse simply wanted, well… smut. And "snuggles". So the case took a bit of a backseat this chapter. But rest assured, we'll be picking up the angst again in the next chapter. (I think the whole DL detour might have had something to do with the total lack of DL on the show for the past few weeks, despite the numerous opportunities that have presented themselves to TPTB. The muse and I were both getting a teensy bit frustrated, and may have thrown some pillows and yelled some obscenities at our TV on Friday night. Which, come to think of it, was about when the writer's block suddenly reared its ugly head. Hmmm…)**

**I'd love to hear what you thought. If you have the time, please take a moment to leave a review! **

***rhymes***


	7. I Hate Surprises

**A/N: Hi there!**

**So, after several days of wrestling with how to approach this next chapter, I've finally gotten my head around it. I hope. **

**Thank you to the lovely folks who reviewed the last chapter. I'm glad to know that I'm not alone in my need to see at least a little D/L action every once in a while. God knows we don't get it on the show, now do we?**

**Anyways, I digress. Here is the next chapter, ready for your reading pleasure. I've tried to find a better balance between D/L and the case… I hope it works *crosses fingers*.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Mac stared out his office window at the early morning sun as it rose above the Manhattan skyline. He had been unable to sleep, all night long his thoughts turned toward the murder investigations surrounding John Doe and the Vanzellas. He didn't like it. He didn't like the viciousness of the murders, nor did he like the fact that one of his team members looked to be personally involved in the case. He'd downplayed his concerns to Lindsay the day before, telling her not to get ahead of herself by connecting the break-in at Danny's place with the murders before they had irrefutable proof that the two were related, but inside he was deeply worried.

When Danny had called him, Mac could hear the panic in his voice. Being a very private person himself, Mac could understand the young man's distress at finding his home vandalized. But it was the message from one of their murder victims that really made Mac's blood run cold through his veins. And when Lindsay and Flack had returned to the lab reporting that it appeared there was nothing missing from the apartment, Mac had been forced to face the unpleasant possibility that whoever had broken into Danny's home had not been looking for something… but someone. They'd been looking for Danny. And when he wasn't there, they'd left the place in ruins, a clear warning to Danny that despite the fact that he was in law enforcement, he was not untouchable. They had gotten to him once. They could do it again.

He swivelled his chair so he was facing his desk, looking over the array of pictures, documents and files that comprised the cases his team were working on. He'd checked the progress of Sid's dental record search for their John Doe but it was still coming up empty, which wasn't surprising as there were literally millions of comparisons to be made. He knew the chances of finding a match were slim to none, but he held out hope.

After confirming that as yet there had been no further developments on the Vanzella case, Mac turned his attention to the break in at Danny's apartment. He scanned the pictures Lindsay had taken with a well-trained eye, examining each picture carefully before moving onto the next. He paused when he came to the pictures of the door. There had been no sign of tampering – no tool marks in the lock, no scratches on the door jamb to indicate forced entry. He flipped through the pictures to one of Danny's bedroom where he could see the fire escape through the curtains. He knew that Lindsay had dusted the interior of the apartment for prints… but what about the fire escape? According to the pictures, the window appeared to be intact, again with no signs of tampering. But it was an old building with old-fashioned locks on the windows. It was possible that someone could have forced the lock from outside without doing much damage.

He picked up his phone, dialling Lindsay's number. He waited while it rang once, twice. She picked up after three rings.

"Monroe," she mumbled sleepily. Mac glanced at his watch, suddenly realizing that it was very early still and she wasn't actually due in for work for several hours yet.

"Lindsay, it's Mac," he said. "I'm sorry if I woke you. I didn't realize how early it was. I just… I was going over the pictures of Danny's apartment and I had a question."

"Um… okay. Just give me a second," she said. Mac heard the rustle of her bedding and the creak of her mattress as she got up out of bed. The faint sound of a man's voice grumbling in the background sent a pang of guilt shooting through Mac at having disturbed Lindsay and her bedmate. "Shh… just go back to sleep. I'll be right back." Her voice was muffled and he heard the sound of a door closing. "Sorry, Mac," she yawned. "What's up?"

"Like I said, I was going through the pictures of Danny's apartment and I was wondering if you checked the fire escape."

"Did I check the…" Lindsay paused, and Mac could practically hear the wheels turning in her head. "Well, I didn't go outside if that's what you mean," she said. "I didn't even think to, Mac. I… we looked at the window sill and there were no prints or marks so…"

"Lindsay, it's alright," he assured her. "It was just something that occurred to me. I was trying to figure out how the perp got into his place. Short of having a key or someone letting him in…"

"Do you want me to go check it now?" she asked, and Mac could hear the anxiety in her voice at possibly having overlooked something so important.

"Take your time, Lindsay," Mac said reassuringly. "I'm sure it's nothing. I'm grasping at straws here. Just go over there as soon as you can. Give Flack a call when you're heading over, get him and Danny to meet you there. I want him to look over his stuff in the light of day; maybe he'll see something that wasn't noticeable at night."

"Right. Okay, will do, Mac," Lindsay said. "I'll let you know what we find."

"Good. And Lindsay?"

"Yes?"

"See if his neighbours heard or saw anything suspicious during those two days Danny was away from his place, alright?"

"Flack already checked while I was processing the scene," Lindsay said. "From the time Danny left his apartment to the time he returned, no one heard or saw anything. But that's not saying much. The woman in the apartment below his is almost completely deaf, and the apartment above is vacant. One of his neighbours right next door has been away on vacation for the past week and the other is a security guard that works nights and wears earplugs during the day."

"And across the hall?"

"She'd already gone to work when we knocked on her door. We'll try again today, alright?"

"Thanks. Keep me posted," Mac said.

"We will."

"Oh, and Lindsay?"

"Yes?"

"I am sorry for waking you up… I hope I didn't interrupt anything."

"Uh, no. That's fine. I'll talk to you later, Mac."

* * *

Lindsay awoke to the sound of her phone ringing. Her first instinct was to ignore it. Whoever it was would call back. But she thought better of it; it could be work. Cracking open her eyes, she peered groggily at her surroundings. She was momentarily confused. Hadn't they fallen asleep on the couch? Then she smiled as a vague and hazy memory of Danny carrying her into the bedroom sometime in the night swam through her mind. He'd even helped her back into her pyjamas so she wouldn't get cold before tucking her snugly under the blankets and crawling in beside her.

She could feel the weight of his arm sprawled across her stomach. As she reached for the phone, he stirred in his sleep, his grip on her tightening and he muttered something that sounded like "fuck the hell off" in her ear.

Not wanting to disturb him further while she talked with Mac, she gently untangled herself from his arms, smiling as he groaned at the loss of her body heat before burrowing further under the blankets. She stroked his hair and assured him she'd be right back before stepping out into the hall and closing the door behind her.

After her conversation with Mac, Lindsay snapped her phone shut and glanced down at the time displayed on the tiny screen. 6:30 am. She wasn't scheduled for work until nine, but she was up now and it would do her no good to go back to sleep. Mac's call had unsettled her a little bit. It had been playing on her mind as well, the fact that there was no discernable evidence as to how the perp had gotten into the apartment.

She was about to head into the kitchen to get coffee started when she heard the creak of her bedroom door opening and a pair of hands slipped around her waist from behind. She leaned back into Danny's warm embrace and he pressed a kiss to her cheek before resting his chin on her shoulder.

"Mac?" It was more of a statement than a question, and Lindsay nodded her head in response. "I swear to God, sometimes I think that man has no concept of time," Danny chuckled, pulling her tighter against his body. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah. He just wants us to go over to your place and take another look with fresh eyes," she explained. "He wants to know how the perp got into your place. And I have to say, I've been wondering that myself."

"Okay," Danny said, releasing her from his arms and moving past her into the living room. "Go have a shower. I'll start the coffee. We'll leave whenever you're ready."

"I just gotta call Flack first," Lindsay said, dialling the detective's number. At Danny's inquiring glance over his shoulder, Lindsay explained. "Mac still thinks you're staying with him… he wanted you and Flack to meet me there. If I don't call him... well, it might look weird."

After a brief and slightly awkward conversation with Flack regarding Danny's whereabouts and Mac's request for them to meet at Danny's apartment, Lindsay had a quick shower and got dressed and ready to face the day. Emerging from the bedroom, she entered the kitchen to find the coffee was almost finished brewing and Danny was standing in front of the stove stirring some scrambled eggs in a pan while bread toasted.

"Smells good," she said, taking two mugs down from the cupboard and filling them to the brim with coffee.

"Yeah? I hope you don't mind me rooting around in your fridge," Danny said, nodding to the breakfast he was preparing for them. "Figured you might be hungry. I know I am."

"When are you not hungry?" Lindsay teased, angling herself in between Danny and the stove and pulling him into a tight hug. "Mmm… I could get used to this, you know? I like having you here in the morning. It's nice."

He smiled down at her, planting a soft kiss to her forehead before he reached out and turned off the burner, moving the pan full of eggs off to the side. He lifted her up, sitting her on the counter, his arms winding around her body. He pulled her into a kiss that was both gentle and sensual, leaving Lindsay in absolutely no doubt that Danny shared her sentiments about spending their mornings together... after their nights. The toast popping up from the toaster interrupted the kiss and Danny stepped away to finish making breakfast, giving her a little wink over his shoulder as he passed her a plate.

They ate their breakfast in relative silence and once they were done, Lindsay quickly tidied the kitchen while Danny got ready to go. She heard him washing his face in the bathroom and then he came back out into the living room, still clad in his jeans and wifebeater with a bemused expression on his face.

"Um… you still have that shirt I left here the other morning?" he asked, holding out the remains of the shirt she'd demolished last night. "I think this one is beyond repair."

"Well… you told me to rip it," Lindsay smirked. "I'm sorry. Should I have ripped it more gently?"

"Shut up," he said, a crooked smile on his face. "It was the heat of the moment. Ripping it off sounded like a good idea at the time."

"It _was_ a good idea at the time," Lindsay said, grabbing his tattered shirt from his hand and tossing it over her shoulder. "In fact, I still think it was a good idea. You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that."

"What did my shirt ever do to you?" he asked, grinning as her hands worked to untuck his wifebeater and slide up his bare back.

"Nothing," she sighed as she pressed a kiss to his jaw, lightly dragging her fingernails down his back. "It's what you do to me. You're sexy as hell."

"Oh, God. Lindsay, please…" he pleaded with her. "We don't have time before Flack…"

As if on cue, Lindsay's phone rang in her pocket. She pulled it out and glared at the name on her caller ID.

"Hey, Don," she sighed, resting her forehead against Danny's chest.

"Where the hell are you?" Flack demanded. "You wake me up, tell me to meet you at Danny's in half an hour… and you're not even here."

"Sorry. Um… traffic," Lindsay grimaced, hating to have to lie to him.

"You got Messer with you?" he asked.

"Yeah… just picked him up. We're on our way. Give us ten minutes, tops."

"Fine. Ten minutes."

Lindsay gave Danny a guilty smile as she pocketed her phone. "He sounds pissed," she said.

Danny grinned at her. "Yeah, he's a bastard in the morning," he affirmed. "Hey, if you wanna have a little fun, be real perky. He hates that."

"Speaking of bastards!" Lindsay scolded. "You're mean!" She headed into her bedroom to retrieve the shirt Danny had left behind after their first night together. She dug it out of her hamper and handed it to him, feeling slightly embarrassed at its wrinkled appearance. Danny, however, appeared not to notice and slipped it on, buttoning it up the front before tucking it loosely into his jeans.

They grabbed their coats and left the apartment, Lindsay leading the way down the parking garage where she had left the Avalanche after work the night before. She climbed into the driver's seat and buckled up, Danny following suit in the passenger seat, before she manoeuvred the truck out onto the street. Once they were on the road, Lindsay casually rested her hand on the centre console, hoping that Danny would take the hint. As he had the day they'd driven to Staten Island, he didn't disappoint, reaching out and lacing his fingers with hers.

"Just in case I didn't make it clear upstairs," he said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze, "I could really get used to this too, Montana."

"Yeah? Well, good. Because you're not so bad to have around, Messer. I think I might keep you for a while," she replied, smiling at him before turning her eyes back to the road.

All too soon, they arrived on Danny's street. Seeing Flack pacing back and forth in front of Danny's building, they let go of one another's hand and Lindsay parked the truck.

"About fucking time," Flack muttered as the two of them alighted from the Avalanche.

"Sorry, man," Danny said. "My fault. I couldn't find my shirt."

"Ugh," Flack scoffed. "I don't want to hear any sordid details, Messer. I have no interest in what you and your lady friend were up to last night... or this morning." He waited while Danny opened the front door and the three of them made their way into the elevator. When they arrived on Danny's floor, Lindsay went on ahead, wanting to give Danny some time to smooth things over with Flack who, despite his comments to the contrary, appeared to be a bit put out at not being included in Danny's new secret affair. She slit the red evidence tape that sealed Danny's door, entering the apartment and trying not to listen to the conversation happening in the hallway.

"Still don't see why you can tell Monroe where your new girlfriend lives, but you can't tell me," Flack grumbled.

Danny sighed, not really wanting to get into this right now, but needing to appease Flack in some way. "Look, Don… like I told you before, it's not something that I'm prepared to share with anyone just yet."

"Yeah, but Monroe…"

"Lindsay knows because… because her and my girl... they're real close. She just found out. I didn't tell her."

"So… you're not keeping it from me because you trust her more than you trust me?"

"What?" Danny asked. "Come on, man! You know I trust you with my life, Don."

Flack nodded, apparently satisfied for the moment. They began walking again and Danny looked up at the sound of a door opening ahead of them.

"Hey, Ruben. How you doing, buddy?" Danny asked, smiling at the young boy who had emerged from the apartment across the hall from Danny's.

"Danny!" Ruben said, dropping his backpack on the floor and running at Danny, grabbing him firmly around the waist and hugging him. He looked up at Danny with excited brown eyes. "Are you coming to see my baseball game this weekend?" he asked. "Mom says you can come if you want, but I'm not supposed to bug you about it because she knows you're really busy. I said I wouldn't, but this isn't really bugging you is it? If I'm just asking once? That's okay, right? Because my mom says sometimes I ask too many questions. Do you think I ask too many questions?" He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. Danny was about to respond when Ruben started again. "I haven't seen you forever, Danny. Have you been away? My mom said something happened in your house. Did you get your present? Your friend said he wanted to surprise you. Were you surprised? Was it a good surprise? I like surprises…"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Danny said. He took Ruben by the shoulders and crouched down in front of him so they were eye to eye. "What did you just say about a surprise?"

"Yeah, a guy came by a few days ago. I was coming home from soccer and I saw him at your door. I know my mom says I'm not supposed to talk to strangers, but he said he was a friend of yours, and you're not a stranger so that's okay, right?"

"Um… you're mom's right. Talking to strangers is a bad idea, buddy," Danny said. He saw Ruben's face fall and he gave his young friend a reassuring smile. "Hey, it's okay, Ruben. Don't worry about it. Can you… can you tell me what this friend looked like?"

"He was short," Ruben started. "Like, even shorter than you Danny -" Danny glared up at Flack who had attempted to camouflage his snort of laughter at Ruben's comment as a cough, "- and he had real dark hair… and it was curly."

"Good, good," Danny said. "Thanks, buddy. That will help me figure out what friend it was." Ruben beamed at him, pleased to be able to help. "So… did he tell you what the surprise was?"

"Danny! If he told me it wouldn't be a surprise!" Ruben said, rolling his eyes. "Oh, but he had a box. Maybe that was the surprise. Maybe it was a present!"

"Yeah, maybe," Danny said warily. "How big was the box?" Ruben held up his hands to indicate that he'd seen the man carrying a box about ten inches square. "Just hang on a sec, okay, Ruben?" Danny stood, whispering in Flack's ear to head into the apartment and help Lindsay search for any sign of the box. Flack nodded his head silently, smiling down at Ruben and ruffling his hair before disappearing around the doorframe. Danny crouched down to Ruben's level once again.

"You know that somebody got into my house and broke all my stuff right? Your mom told you that?" Ruben nodded his head, and Danny felt his heart sink at the look of guilt that suddenly appeared on the little boy's face. "Now, Ruben. This is real important, okay? Did you see this guy… my friend… did he go into my apartment?"

Ruben hesitated for a moment, then nodded his head silently.

"Okay… and do you know how he got in?"

Again Ruben nodded his head, dropping his gaze to the floor and shuffling his feet nervously.

"Buddy, you gotta tell me, okay?"

"You'll be mad," Ruben whispered.

"I promise I won't be mad at you," Danny said sincerely. "Please Ruben. How did he get in?" Ruben remained silent, scuffing his toe against the hardwood floor of the hall. Danny sighed. "Ruben? Did you let him in?" The little boy shrugged his shoulders. "Come on, kiddo. Please tell me. Did you use the key I gave you to let him in?"

Ruben looked up at Danny, his brown eyes filled with tears as he nodded his head.

"I'm sorry, Danny," he sniffled. "I thought I was helping."

"Oh, buddy, it's alright," Danny said, pulling his young friend into a reassuring hug. "It's okay. No harm done."

"Are… are you gonna tell my mom?" Ruben asked, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his jacket.

"Bud, you know I have to," Danny informed him.

"Please don't!" Ruben pleaded. "I'll be in so much trouble! She won't let me play baseball this weekend if she knows."

"Ruben…" Danny warned, "I'm not gonna lie to your mom. But I'll give you a choice – either you tell her, or I will."

"I wish I'd never seen that guy," Ruben mumbled to himself as Danny stood up and knocked on Ruben's door. "I hate surprises."

_Me too, buddy_, Danny thought to himself. _Me too_.

* * *

"Well, we can tell Mac the guy didn't come in through the fire escape," Lindsay said as she crawled back into the apartment through Danny's window. "Like I thought – no signs of tampering inside or out."

"Yeah… we kind of figured that," Flack said and Lindsay looked at him askance. Flack filled her in on the conversation he'd just left between Danny and Ruben out in the hall. "Looks like maybe the kid let the guy in."

"Oh, God," Lindsay said. "Oh, that poor boy. I bet he feels terrible…"

"He should," Flack said. "Letting a stranger into somebody else's apartment. What the hell was he thinking?" He shook his head, casting his eyes around the room. "What we gotta do now is look for the '_present_' this guy left for Danny. Whatever it is, I'm pretty sure I'm not going to like it. And I'll bet my next paycheck Danny's gonna hate it."

They worked in silence for the next little while, going through Danny's drawers and cupboards, righting furniture that had been overturned and feeling around into every nook and cranny for the box Ruben had described.

"Fuck!" Flack groaned as he slammed Danny's kitchen cupboard shut. "I got nothing in here. What about you, Monroe? Anything?"

"Nada," she replied. "I've looked everywhere."

"Well, what the hell was the point of bringing it in here if he wasn't going to leave it behind?" Flack asked. "Fuck."

They both looked up at the sound of the door opening to see Danny enter the apartment, his face set in a deep frown.

"So, what's the verdict?" Flack asked. "The rugrat let your '_friend_' in?"

"Give the kid a break, Flack," he said tersely. Flack scoffed and Danny glared at his friend. "Hey! Come on, he's only seven. He's still at the age where he trusts everyone. He didn't know any better. When I was seven I probably would have done the same."

"Is he going to be okay?" Lindsay asked, concerned for Danny's young friend.

Danny looked up and gave her a thankful smile. "Yeah, I think so," he said. "His mom's pretty pissed though. And I think Ruben's a little choked with me that I made him tell her what he did."

"So, what happened?" Flack asked.

"Ruben said the guy was really persistent, that he had to get into the apartment to give me my surprise," Danny explained. "So the kid was gonna ask his mom if it would be okay to let him in, but she was on the phone with her sister, so he decided to let him in anyway. Gave the guy the key I left at their place for emergencies."

"_Emergencies_?" Lindsay asked, not at all sure she liked the fact that an attractive woman living across the hall had access to Danny's apartment whenever she felt like it.

"Yeah, _emergencies_," Danny said, a slightly defensive tone to his voice. "Her ex – Ruben's dad – is kind of a prick. When he's had a few drinks, he gets all remorseful and wants to come over to… play house, if you know what I mean. I came home one night and heard him wailing pretty good on Rikki while Ruben was standing in his bedroom doorway watching the whole thing. Arrested his sorry ass, but he's got a good lawyer and got out a few days later. I gave Rikki a key in case he shows up and they need a place to stay… you know, if I'm not home." He looked pointedly at Lindsay as he said the last four words, and she felt a wave of guilt at the unexpected jealousy that had once again risen up inside her.

"Oh."

"Yeah… oh," he said, shaking his head. "Anyways, Ruben gave the guy the key, the guy opened the door and gave it back to Ruben… and here it is." He pulled a small plastic envelope from his pocket, handing it to Lindsay. Inside the envelope lay a key. "And the best part? Ruben says he's pretty sure that when the guy touched the key… he wasn't wearing any gloves."

"What?" Lindsay said, her shock evident in her voice. "So…"

"So, we may have a print," Danny said. "Probably a partial at best, and we'll have to eliminate Ruben's prints, and probably Rikki's too… but it's a start at least."

"Alright, so we got a possible partial – probably unusable – print," Flack said. "That's great. But what we don't got is the surprise your old pal Shorty left for you, Danno. We searched everywhere."

"Did you look in the fridge?" Danny asked. Lindsay and Flack glanced at one another, then back at Danny. "I'll take that as a no."

"Why would we look in the fridge?" Flack asked. "Who's gonna put something like that in the fridge?"

"I don't know," Danny said. "But I've turned enough crime scenes over in my time to know that perps put all kinds of crazy shit in fridges. It's like they think its some kind of secret hidey-hole where no one will ever look. And that's why I always check the fridge."

"Wouldn't have anything to do with that bottomless pit you call a stomach, would it?" Flack mumbled and Lindsay elbowed him in the ribs as she followed Danny into the kitchen. They all held their breaths as Danny pulled open the fridge door.

"Fuck me!" Flack gasped. "Dude, you have got to go shopping. All you got in here is condiments."

"Oh, shut up, you jackass," Danny shot back. "I haven't been home."

Flack grinned at him. "Excuses, excuses," he teased. "Well, so much for your big theory about the fridge. You are such a dork. You really had me going, you know? _Perps put all kinds of crazy shit in fridges_," he parroted Danny's earlier comment, massacring his friend's Staten Island accent in the process.

"Not so fast," Lindsay said, grabbing Flack's arm as he turned to walk out of the kitchen. "What about the freezer? Did you check there?"

"_Did you check there_?" Flack repeated, rolling his eyes. "No, I did not check there. And you want to know why? Because nobody would put something like that in someone's… well, I'll be damned."

He stared, wide-eyed with his mouth gaping open at the box sitting in Danny's freezer. It was just as Ruben had described – brown cardboard, about ten inches square.

"If you worked for Mac," Lindsay whispered in Flack's ear, "You would be soooo fired right now."

Flack glared at her, then he and Danny watched as Lindsay reached into the freezer, extracting the box carefully with her gloved hands. She set it on the counter, contemplating her next move. She glanced at Danny, who handed her a small pocket knife to slit the tape that sealed the box. Being careful not to disturb anything other than the tape, she carefully slid the knife along the seam at the top of the box and pulled the flaps open. Peering inside, she recoiled, letting out an exclamation of shock.

"Oh… Oh, my God…"

Danny and Flack shared a worried glance with one another before stepping forward and looking down at the contents of the box.

**

* * *

Ooooh! What's in the box?**

**Bet you're just dying to know. And I'm just dying to tell you! But it will have to wait until the next update. So sorry, but you know how it is with the cliffhangers. And don't even bother getting mad at me. I don't make the rules. I just bend them to my will. Mwa ha ha!**

**Thanks for reading, and again, please feel free to leave a review. I'd love to know what you thought, and if you have any theories as to what the heck is going on… I'm all ears! **

***rhymes***


	8. Nothing To Get Worked Up About

**A/N: First of all, I'd like to give a huge round of applause to all of you readers out there in FanFictionland, and a standing ovation with roses and confetti for those of you who left a review. Thank you so much! I haven't gotten around to finishing all my review replies yet because I wanted to focus on getting this chapter finished, but they are on their way!  
**

**Secondly, I'd like to apologize for keeping you all waiting for this update. I have been working on it in fits and starts all week as I've had time. I really do appreciate your patience! So, after leaving you dangling tenuously from the proverbial cliff last time, I hope that this update answers some of your questions, while at the same time raising a few new ones for you to ponder. Enjoy!**

* * *

"You found what in Danny's apartment?" Stella asked, aghast as Lindsay withdrew the box from its plastic sheath. She'd wrapped it carefully back at Danny's, packing the whole thing in ice and racing back to the lab before the contents had a chance to defrost too much.

"A rat," Lindsay explained as she pulled back the flaps and let Stella look inside. "A dead one. In his freezer."

"Oh, my God," Stella breathed, raising her hand to cover her mouth. "That's…"

"Well, I'd say it's disturbing to say the least," Mac said, glancing into the box himself and grimacing at the dead rodent inside, it's lifeless beady eyes staring up at him. "Although I have to say I'm a little relieved."

Lindsay nodded her understanding. After the initial shock and revulsion of seeing the contents of the box she too had felt a wave of relief wash over her. When Danny and Flack had first told her about the box, she'd been certain she knew what it would hold.

"I know what you mean," she said. "I was so sure we'd found Tommy Vanzella's missing… parts. What do you think it means, Mac?"

"I don't know," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "It could be as simple as an attempt to intimidate Danny. Maybe send him some kind of message. Rats are fairly symbolic. It's possible that whoever our perp is, he feels as though at some point Danny ratted him out."

Lindsay considered what Mac was saying. "Do you think it has something to do with one of his old cases?"

"It's hard to say," Mac said thoughtfully. "I guess it's possible."

"Has Danny said anything about it?" Stella asked, snapping on a pair of latex gloves to take over the examination of the box as Lindsay carefully removed the rat from its cardboard coffin using a pair of rubber-tipped tongs.

"Not really. Not to me at least," Lindsay said, a note of bitterness in her voice. She had wanted to stay at the apartment to talk to him, to make sure he was alright, but her responsibility had been to get the evidence back to the lab as fast as possible. When she'd left, Flack had been helping Danny pack a duffle bag full of the things he'd need for the next several days, as Flack had insisted that he wasn't coming back to his apartment until they'd gotten whoever was responsible for the break-in behind bars. "He says he's fine and that after living in New York as long as he has, a dead rat in the freezer isn't anything to get worked up about."

Mac let out a wry chuckle. "That sounds like something Danny would say." He stepped closer, picking up a magnifying glass and examining the interior of the box while Stella got out the supplies she would need to detect any latent prints on the exterior. "Hey, look at this," he said, pointing to a series of scratch and bite marks scoring the inside of the box. Stella and Lindsay both leaned in for a closer look.

"Are those… so, that means…" Stella glanced up at Mac, who nodded his head.

"At some point, the rat was alive while it was in this box."

"Do you think it was still alive when it was put in the freezer?" Lindsay asked.

Mac shrugged his shoulders. "I have no idea, but it's possible." He set down the magnifying glass and pulled the gloves from his hands, taking his phone from the holster on his belt. "I'm going to get Hawkes to take a look, try his hand at a rat-opsy. Maybe he can give us some clue as to where the rat came from."

As Mac stepped away from the examination table to place his call to Hawkes, Stella and Lindsay stared down at the box and the carcass it had contained. Lindsay shook her head, her brow furrowed.

"I don't get it," she said. "It just doesn't make sense. If all this guy wanted to do was deliver a rat – alive or dead – to Danny's apartment… why bother tearing the place to pieces? And why the freezer?"

"Maybe he was going to come back for it," Stella said. "Maybe he didn't want it to get away. I don't know. And as for destroying his apartment… well, from what I've seen of the pictures, it looks like the guy was pissed off. Maybe he was looking for something and couldn't find it."

"Or someone," Lindsay whispered as an unpleasant thought flashed through her mind. "What if… what if he was looking for Danny?"

"And when he wasn't there, he took out his frustration on all his stuff?" Stella considered Lindsay's suggestion, nodding her head. "Maybe. But then we're right back where we started. Why bring the rat?"

Lindsay stared down at the small, lifeless body on the table before her. She didn't like this at all. She was so sure that the break-in at Danny's and the murders of John Doe and the Vanzellas were tied together. If the same person who had killed the others had come to Danny's apartment looking for him… her skin crawled and a chill ran down her spine at the mere thought.

"Hawkes is on his way," Mac said, rejoining the conversation. He turned to Lindsay. "Did you get anywhere on finding out how this guy got into Danny's place?"

"Um… Yeah. Yes, I did." She fumbled through her evidence kit, pulling out the small plastic bag that contained Danny's spare key. She handed it over to Mac, relaying Ruben's story for him.

"And what time did this Ruben kid see this… '_friend_' of Danny's?" Mac asked.

"He said he was on his way home from soccer practice," Lindsay remembered Danny telling her. "Around six o'clock Friday evening."

Lindsay froze as the words left her mouth. Six o'clock on Friday evening. Somehow that time resonated with her, but she couldn't put her finger on why. She furrowed her brow as she thought, wracking her brain to try and figure out why that suddenly meant something to her. And then it hit her.

She and Danny had been working non-stop since late Thursday evening on their last case. At the time, there had been no end in sight, and around five o'clock on Friday they'd agreed to call it a night and head to their respective homes. They'd gotten their things from their lockers and Danny had ridden down in the elevator with her, the two of them discussing where they would pick up the case the next morning. They were outside the building saying their goodbyes when their phones had beeped simultaneously; their results had come in and there was a positive match to one of their suspects.

Exhausted, Lindsay had suggested that they leave it until the morning. The suspect was in custody and it wouldn't do him any harm to spend the night in jail. But Danny had been insistent. They were so close. A few more hours and it would all be over. She'd wanted to protest, but the eager and pleading look in his eyes – eyes which were just as tired as hers – convinced her to stay. Looking back, she'd never been so glad in her entire life that she'd put in that extra few hours of overtime. If Danny had given in and she had gotten her way, he would have gone home. He would have arrived just before Ruben came home from soccer practice. He would have been sitting in his apartment, all alone, when…

"Lindsay?" Stella asked, placing her hand on Lindsay's arm. "You okay?"

"What?" Lindsay asked, a hint of panic in her voice. She peeled off her latex gloves and dropped them in the garbage. "Oh, um… you know what? I just realized I have to make a phone call. Can you excuse me for just a second?"

Turning and walking quickly from the room, she could hear Stella calling after her, but she didn't even hazard a backward glance over her shoulder. She needed to talk to Danny, to hear his voice. The sudden realization of how close she'd come to losing him was too much.

She pulled out her phone and dialled his number as she walked down the hall toward her office. Pushing open the door, she dropped heavily into the chair at her desk and listened to the dial tone ringing in her ear. She breathed a sigh of relief when after the third ring her call was answered.

"Messer."

"Danny? It's me."

"Montana?" he asked, his voice laced with concern. Apparently she hadn't managed to disguise the anxiety she was feeling and he'd picked up on it, even over the phone. "What's the matter? You alright?"

Hearing his voice, she felt better. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine," she said. "I was going over the evidence from your apartment and I just… I wanted to talk to you. Are you alright?"

"I've been better, to tell you the truth. I'm feeling a little lost here, Linds. Like I don't know which way is up. I don't know what's going on or why this is happening," he said quietly. "I'm tired of being worried all the time. I just want this all to be over."

"I know, Danny. I do too."

She heard him sigh into the phone. "So, find anything useful with the rat yet?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Not yet. But Mac's going to have Hawkes take a look at it. Do a little rat-opsy."

"Glad it's Hawkes and not me," Danny laughed mirthlessly.

"Me too," Lindsay agreed. "So, what's the plan now? What are you up to?"

"We're still at my place getting the last of my stuff together. Then Flack's gonna take Ruben down to the precinct to go over a couple arrays of suspects, see if he can't identify the guy he let into my place."

"And you? What are you going to do? Where are you going to stay?"

Danny sighed. "Got a call from my Ma," he said, his tone sullen. "She's pissed because I didn't go and see her when we were over there the other day. Apparently, the fact that I wasn't in the mood for a social visit after finding Tommy and Joanie is no excuse, and if I ever want her to speak to me again, I gotta make ammends." He let out a heavy sigh. "Anyways, she wants me to drop in, have dinner with her and my dad, and she's not taking 'no' for an answer. So, I guess I'll stay there at least for tonight. After that… who knows?"

"You can always stay with me," Lindsay reaffirmed her offer from the previous night. "I meant what I said this morning, Danny. I liked waking up and having you right there with me."

"I know. Me too," he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. "It all depends on whether or not I can pry myself out of my mother's claws. But I'll see what I can do, alright?"

"Fine."

"Okay. But right now, I gotta go. Flack's out in the living room and he's getting a little antsy sitting around here waiting for me to pack up my shit. If we don't leave soon, he's gonna get his panties all up in a bunch. So, I guess I'll see you tomorrow. And, Linds?"

"Yes?"

"Try not to worry about me, okay? I can take care of myself. I'm a big boy."

"You certainly are," she murmured. As the words left her lips, Lindsay slapped her hand over her mouth, nearly dropping the phone in the process. Had she really just said that out loud? Feeling her cheeks suffusing with heat, she was suddenly very grateful that they were having this conversation over the phone.

"Whoa, there, Montana," Danny said between snorts of laughter. "Sounds like I'm not the only one who's gonna be feeling a little lonely tonight!"

"Oh, God. I can't believe I just said that," she giggled. "What was I thinking? You are the last person on this earth who needs to have his ego stroked."

"You got me there, Montana," he replied. "But, ah… I can think of something else that could use some stroking."

"Yeah, well have fun with that all by yourself."

"You're mean."

"I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" she said.

"I can't wait," he replied.

"I'll miss you."

"You too, babe," he said softly. Lindsay felt her cheeks burning once more. He'd called her babe, and he'd done it so candidly, so easily. She felt slightly giddy at his casual use of such an intimate term of endearment. "Be good."

"I'll do my best."

She heard him click off the line and she sighed happily as she snapped her phone shut, a ridiculous grin spread from ear to ear across her face.

* * *

Stella watched as Lindsay took off her gloves and discarded them in the garbage beside the table they'd been working at before excusing herself and striding quickly from the room.

"Lindsay? Lindsay!" Stella called out after her, but Lindsay appeared to be lost in thought, either not hearing or choosing to ignore Stella's voice. Frowning, she turned back to the table, sharing a worried glance with Mac.

"What was that all about?" Mac asked.

"I have no idea," Stella replied. "You think I should check on her?"

Mac nodded his head. "Go ahead. I'll stay here with the evidence and wait for Sheldon."

"I'll be right back," Stella said, tossing out her used gloves as she followed Lindsay's steps down the hall. Looking through the glass wall of the office Lindsay shared with Danny, Stella could see her sitting at her desk talking on her cellphone. She felt a surge of relief as she watched the troubled expression slowly vanish until Lindsay was once again smiling, her eyes bright and a slight blush on her cheeks. Through the door, Stella could hear Lindsay giggling and she couldn't help but smile herself. She had a sneaking suspicion she knew who was on the other end of that phone call.

She continued to watch from the hallway, not wanting to invade what was obviously a private conversation, until she saw Lindsay snapping her phone shut and laying it on her desk, her smile broadening even further until she was positively beaming. Stella rapped on the door with her knuckles before grabbing the handle and pulling it open, taking a step inside.

She lowered herself into Danny's chair and wheeled it around so she was sitting beside Lindsay, her eyebrows raised inquiringly.

"You alright?"

Lindsay nodded her head, giving Stella a sheepish grin.

"Yeah… sorry about that. I just had to… uh, check something. But I'm fine."

"Who was that?" Stella asked, pointing to Lindsay's phone.

"Just… a friend," Lindsay replied, meeting Stella's gaze then quickly averting her eyes.

"A friend? Really?" Stella asked, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the edge of Lindsay's desk. "You know, Linds, I'm your friend, but you don't get all dreamy-eyed when you're talking to me. And I don't think I've ever heard you giggle like that for anyone," she observed, her green eyes flashing with amusement.

"Um… well, I… he's…" Lindsay stammered.

"Was that Mr. Dreamboat? The one you were telling me about the other day?" Stella asked, the smile on her face nearly blinding.

Lindsay bit her lip and cast her gaze to the floor to avoid Stella's inquiring eyes. "Yeah. It was."

Stella leaned back in her chair, looking expectantly at Lindsay. "Okay, kiddo. Spill. Who is this guy, and when can I meet him?"

"I already told you, Stell… we're not ready to, you know, go public," Lindsay explained, giving her friend a shy smile.

"Do I know him?"

"Um… you've seen him around," Lindsay said evasively. "He's… he's a cop."

Stella's interest was piqued. "Really? Well that's helpful," she said, the sarcasm in her tone laced with a hint of teasing. "I mean, there are only thousands of cops in this city. How hard can it be to narrow down the list of viable prospects?" She sighed, giving Lindsay a sidelong glance. "You're really not going to tell me?"

Lindsay shook her head and Stella didn't miss the way her eyes darted to Danny's desk before she resumed her careful observation of the floor at her feet.

"Any particular reason you're keeping this on the down-low?" Stella asked quietly and Lindsay looked up at her questioningly. "There's not a certain rakish, blond-haired, blue-eyed detective you're trying to protect, is there?"

"Wh-what?" Lindsay stammered, her brown eyes wide.

"Oh, come on, Lindsay," Stella implored. "Do you really expect me to believe that you don't know how Danny feels about you?" Lindsay simply gaped back at her, shaking her head minutely. So Stella continued: "Honey, anyone can tell he's crazy about you. Head over heels, actually." She reached out and laid her hand on Lindsay's knee. "I'm sorry, Linds. I thought you knew. It wasn't as if he was being particularly subtle. Kind of the opposite, actually, in typical Danny Messer style." She winked at Lindsay, giving her knee a gentle squeeze. "And… well, to be honest, we all kind of thought you felt the same way. So when you told me about Mr. Wonderful the other day… I was kind of surprised and I guess I figured you were keeping it quiet so you wouldn't hurt Danny's feelings."

Lindsay stared back at Stella for a moment. She hadn't realized that they had been so blatant in their feelings for one another. Glancing at her friend, she realized that Stella was waiting for her to say something. Recalling the snippets she'd overheard of Danny's conversation with Flack in the hallway outside his apartment that morning, she squelched down the unpleasant feeling that rose up in the pit of her stomach for the half-truth she was about to tell.

"Uh… Danny already knows," she said quietly, "And he's okay with it. It's… he's, um, a friend of Danny's."

"Oh," Stella said, slightly surprised by Lindsay's revelation. Then an idea sprung to her mind and her eyes went wide. "Oh, my God! It's not Flack, is it?"

Lindsay burst out laughing. "What? No! It's not Flack."

"Sheldon?"

Lindsay rolled her eyes, pushing herself up from her chair. "Oh, for the love of… Stella, I'm not telling you, okay? Not yet."

"It's Adam."

"Stella!"

"Scagnetti?"

"This conversation is over," Lindsay laughed as Stella followed her back down the hall to the layout room, listing the names of all the men she could think of that worked for the department as they walked.

"Stella, please," Lindsay said, her expression turning serious as she stopped outside the room where Mac and Hawkes were deeply engrossed in the examination of the rat. "Please, just leave it alone for now, alright? I promise to tell you when the time is right. Until then… just be happy for me, okay?"

Stella searched Lindsay's eyes for some sign of relenting, some sign that she would cave in and reveal her secret, but there was nothing. So she decided to get in one last jab just for good measure.

"I knew it. It's Sid."

Lindsay shoved her friend playfully. "That's not nice, Stella. From what I understand, Sid is very happily married."

"Yeah. To wife number three," Stella pointed out. "You're just angling in for number four, you gold-digger, you!"

Lindsay let out a dramatic sigh and arranged her features into a dreamy expression. "Yes, Stella. You're right. You've caught me. I'm madly in love with Sid Hammerback."

"Whoa. Walked into the wrong part of that conversation," Hawkes said as he stuck his head out the door of the layout room. "I have a feeling that I don't wanna know." He grinned at Lindsay as he beckoned the two women inside. "Mac and I have been taking a look at the rat you found," he said to Lindsay, gesturing at the partially dissected animal on the table. "Now, I'm not an expert on rodents, but the physiology of a rat is fairly comparable to humans; hence why scientists use them for experimentation before testing on people." Seeing the raised eyebrows he was getting from Lindsay and Stella, he chuckled. "But you two already knew that. Anyway, from what I can tell so far, this little guy died from exposure to extreme cold."

"So, he was alive when he was put in the freezer?" Stella asked, grimacing down at the animal. She glanced up, her eyes meeting those of Mac, Hawkes, and Lindsay. "Why?"

"Beats me," Hawkes said. "I'm going to take him down to the morgue and see if Sid can't help me identify his last meal. Might tell us something; give us an idea where he came from, if nothing else."

At the mention of Sid's name, Stella nudged Lindsay with her elbow. The exchange did not go unnoticed by Mac who looked to Hawkes for an explanation. The former ME simply shook his head and muttered, "Don't ask, Mac. Just don't ask."

Lindsay was about to utter a protest, defending herself against any potential rumour-mongering, but her phone let out a shrill cry, interrupting her train of thought. She pulled it from her pocket, excusing herself from the group and stepping over into a quiet corner of the room. She glanced down at the caller ID, not recognizing the number she saw on the display.

"Lindsay Monroe," she answered.

"Oh, uh… hi," said a gruff, deep voice laced with a familiar sounding accent. "Um… is this _Detective_ Lindsay Monroe?"

"Yes, this is she."

"Oh. Good. You left a message for me with the Harbour Master? My name is Paul Cugini."

Paul Cugini? That name sounded very familiar.

"Yeah, me and my buddy Gus… we just got back from five days out fishing. Guys at the office said you wanted to talk to us?"

Of course! Paul Cugini and Gus Del Vecchio; the final two members of the photo she'd found smashed at Danny's apartment. She'd called the down to the marina to validate Gus's mother's claim that the two men had gone fishing and the Harbour Master's office had confirmed it.

"Right. Yes," Lindsay said, flustered at her lapse in memory. "Of course. Sorry, I wasn't expecting to hear from you until later tonight or possibly tomorrow."

"Got back early," Paul said, "On account of… well, we heard over the radio about Tommy and Joanie. Thought we oughta come back to pay our respects, you know? It's such a shame. They were good people. Real good people."

"That's what I hear," Lindsay agreed. "Listen, I have a few questions for both you and Gus. Is there somewhere we could meet? I promise I won't take up too much of your time."

Voices were muffled as Paul covered the phone. "Yo, Gus! We doin' anything later? The lady cop wants to ask us some questions."

"About what?"

"I don't know. Tommy, I guess."

"What the fuck do we know about Tommy?"

"I don't know! We gonna meet her or what?"

"Fine, but I gotta be back at my mom's for dinner. You know how she gets."

"Ya mama's boy," Paul muttered and Lindsay heard a slight rustle as he brought the phone back to his lips. "Yeah, we got a few minutes. There's a bar down by the dock. We're gonna be there for about an hour after we finish unloading our catch. Say you meet us there around three?"

Lindsay glanced at her watch. If she left now, she should have just enough time, as long as traffic on the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge wasn't too bad. "Fine. What's it called?"

"The Rusty Anchor."

_Charming_, Lindsay thought. "I'll be there," she said aloud.

**

* * *

Well? I hope you enjoyed this update. I've already begun the next chapter and hope to have it up in the next few days. Feel free to drop me a line and let me know what you thought!**

***rhymes***


	9. Questions, Questions, and More Questions

**A/N: Boom! Back again, and so soon! **

**Thanks for the feedback on the last chapter. I'd like to issue a formal apology for searing the mental image of Sid and Lindsay in people's minds. That is just unforgiveable, and I grovel humbly at your feet. ;)**

**Anyways, this one picks up where we left off. There's a lot of information in this chapter, so please put your thinking caps on and enjoy!**

* * *

Following the instructions on the Avalanche's GPS, finding the Rusty Anchor had been fairly easy. Easing the truck into a spot in the muddy parking lot, Lindsay took in her surroundings. Time had not been kind to the buildings down by the waterfront, their siding faded and dingy after years of exposure to salt water and the harsh sea air. The bar itself could only be described as a dive; it looked dirty and uninviting. Lindsay chuckled nervously at seeing that the first three letters of the word 'Anchor' were missing, leaving the bar with the unappealing epithet of "The Rusty Hor".

She glanced at her watch; she was right on time. Taking a deep breath, she turned off the ignition and got out of the truck, slamming the door behind her. The air was filled with the scent of marine diesel and fish, and a flock of hungry seagulls circled a boat that was just unloading its cargo down on the dock. As she crossed the parking lot, Lindsay suddenly wished she'd asked for some backup. It wasn't that she felt she couldn't handle herself, or that she needed a man's help to do her job. It was just that this wasn't the kind of place that good girls came on their own, cop or no cop.

She winced as a bell above the door chimed, alerting the bar's patrons of a new arrival. Every head in the place turned to see who had entered, and Lindsay swallowed hard to quell the disquiet that had settled in her gut. She could feel curious eyes on her and she fought the urge to lower her eyes. She had every right to be here and she was determined not to show any signs of weakness. Her head held high, she strode across the seating area to the bar where a stocky barman clad in a filthy wifebeater that barely covered his gargantuan belly was using a grimy cloth to wipe the inside of a glass.

"Well, looky what the cat dragged in," he said, gracing her with a snaggletoothed grin. "A real city girl. How you doing, beautiful? What can I get you?"

"I'm looking for Paul Cugini," Lindsay said, pushing back the hem of her jacket to reveal her badge and gun for the barkeep and any other inquiring eyes to see. "Or Gus Del Vecchio. You seen them around?"

"Well I'll be… a lady cop," he leaned on the bar and Lindsay got a good look at the mish-mash of tattoos that covered his arms, varying from the incredibly detailed and ornate to the horribly crass. "You here to arrest me? Because I've been a bad, bad boy!"

Lindsay cringed at the raucous laughter his comment drew from the crowd in the bar. She shouldn't have come here alone, her pride be damned.

"Leave her alone, Mick."

Turning toward the sound of the voice, Lindsay squinted through the smoky haze that filled the air as a tall, lanky figure stood up from a table at the back of the bar. He beckoned to her, pulling out a chair for her to sit down.

"Don't mind him," he said, settling himself in his own seat. "Mick's bark is worse than his bite. He's mostly harmless."

Letting out a chuckle that she knew belied her nervousness, Lindsay sat down and gave the man across from her a small smile.

"Good to know."

"You Detective Monroe?" he asked, taking a cigarette from the pack on the table and putting it to his lips. He paused before lighting it, glancing at Lindsay. "You mind?"

"What? Oh, no. Go ahead," she said. "And yes, I'm Detective Monroe."

"Huh," he said, nodding his head and inhaling deeply. "You don't look like I thought you'd look."

"Oh?"

"What he means is all the lady cops around here look like they been beaten with an ugly stick," said a gruff voice from behind her. Lindsay glanced over her shoulder to see another man, almost as tall as the one sitting across from her - but slightly rounder – nearing the table, his arms laden with glasses of beer. "Whereas you…" he let out a low whistle.

"And you are?" Lindsay inquired as the round man sat down at their table, pushing a frothy beer in a filthy glass across the chipped Formica toward her.

"Gus," he replied, handing the taller man a beer. "And that's Paulie."

Paul nodded his head in greeting and blew out a thick puff of smoke.

"Oh, good. Well, thank you for meeting with me," Lindsay said. "I realize you've just gotten back and you're probably really busy, so I won't keep you long."

"Oh, yeah. We got loads to do after we're done here, don't we, Paulie?" Gus chuckled. "Flower arrangement, solving world hunger… the usual."

Paul rolled his eyes, kicking his companion under the table.

"Show a little respect, Gus," he said. "She's here to talk to us about Tommy, ain't that right?"

"Um… yeah. Yes, that's right," Lindsay said. She pulled her notepad and a large manila envelope from her bag, setting them on the table. "So, you've heard about what happened to Tommy and Joanie, obviously. I'm just looking for some help filling in the blanks, and I understand that you two were fairly close with him growing up. When was the last time you saw him?"

Gus and Paul exchanged looks, both apparently deep in thought as they tried to remember.

"Uh… I guess about a week ago," Paul said. "That about right, Gus?" He turned to Lindsay. "Met up with him after he closed down the store for the night. He knew we were going out fishing again and he said he wanted to talk to us."

"Really? About what?"

"Just catching up," Gus said. "You know, shooting the shit… it was kinda weird, really. We ain't really hung out with him much these last couple of years, and then he calls us outta the blue and wants to talk."

"About…" Lindsay prompted.

"Nothing in particular," Paul said. "A little of this, a little of that." He shrugged and took another long drag of his cigarette, hacking and coughing as he exhaled. He pumped his chest hard with his fist and took a sip of his beer once the worst of the coughing had subsided. He grinned guiltily at Lindsay. "Keep telling myself I'm gonna quit one day. But you know how it is."

Lindsay smiled at him, giving him a moment to recover before she asked her next question.

"Did he seem… nervous at all?" she asked.

Gus set his near-empty beer down on the table, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Now you mention it, yeah. A little jittery, maybe," he said. "Kept looking over his shoulder, jumping a bit every time the door opened."

"We asked him what was up, but he just said he was probably making something outta nothing," Paul explained. "I thought maybe he was just stressed."

"Why would he be stressed?"

"Don't know," Paul replied, taking a gulp of beer before he continued. "Like I said, we haven't seen much of him for a few years."

"Any particular reason? Did you have a fight?"

"Nothing like that," Gus interjected. "We just… didn't have much in common anymore. He was married, running his own business. And we're always out on the boats, you know? Sometimes we're out there for weeks. Depends on the fish and how big our haul is."

"I see," Lindsay said. "Did he say anything about being followed? Or about someone breaking into his house?"

"What? No, I don't remember that, do you, Gus?"

"Nah. I woulda remembered something like that," Gus replied before downing the dregs of his beer.

Lindsay paused, opening the envelope laid in front of her and extracting a copy of the picture she'd taken from Danny's apartment. She slid it across the table so it was between the two men. "What does that picture mean to you?" she asked.

"Whoa. Where'd you get this?" Paul said, leaning down to examine the photograph more closely. "I haven't seen this in years. This from Tommy's place?"

"No actually. I took it from his apartment," Lindsay said, moving her finger over the picture and pointing at Danny. "The same night Tommy Vanzella was murdered, his apartment was broken into. All the other pictures in his place were cracked, but this -" she tapped the picture with her finger, "- this picture was smashed purposefully. As if it really meant something to whoever did it. And Danny doesn't seem to know, so I thought maybe you two could shed some light on it for me."

"You talking about Danny _Messer_?" Gus asked, his eyes shifting between Paul, Lindsay and the picture on the table before them. "Fuck. Now ain't that a coincidence? Tommy was talking about Danny when we saw him."

"Yeah," Paul agreed. "Yeah, he said he was thinking about calling him."

"Did he say why?"

"Nah. But I didn't think nothing of it at the time," Paul said thoughtfully. "I mean, he calls us up after so many years, and then he's talking about getting in touch with Danny? Just figured he was on one of those kicks where you try to… I don't know, reclaim your youth or some hippie shit like that. Why?"

"Well, Tommy did call him," Lindsay said. "Best guess, he called a few hours before -" she paused, unsure of how much to reveal to these two relative strangers. "- he died. But Danny wasn't home. He didn't get the message Tommy left until _after_ he and I found their bodies."

"You work with him or something?" Gus asked, pointing at Danny's picture.

Lindsay nodded her head. "He's my partner."

"How did you guys know to go to Tommy and Joanie's place?"

Lindsay reached into the envelope and pulled out two more pictures; one of their John Doe, the other of the pin Danny had found attached to his lapel.

"This guy was found dead in a vacant apartment wearing this pin," Lindsay said, watching Gus and Paul carefully for their reactions as they examined the pictures.

Gus winced at the image of John Doe, passing the picture quickly to Paul. He turned to Lindsay, eyeing her as yet untouched glass of beer. "You gonna drink that, sweetheart?" he asked.

"I'm on the clock," she said, shaking her head. "Help yourself." Needing no further encouragement, Gus grabbed the beer from in front of her and downed in quickly in a few noisy gulps. Lindsay cringed as he covered his mouth in a feeble attempt to stifle the loud belch that erupted from deep down in his gut. Turning back to Paul, she tried to pick up where she had left off. "Well? Anything?"

"That's Tommy's pin," Paul said. "I'd recognize it anywhere. Used to belong to his old man before he died."

"Danny recognized it too," Lindsay said, taking the pictures back and sliding them into the envelope. "He thought Tommy might be in trouble, so we came out here to check on him... but it was too late."

"Fuck," Paul breathed. "That's rough. That must have cut Danny up real bad."

"He was pretty upset," Lindsay agreed.

"What happened to Tommy?" Paul asked quietly.

"You really want to know?" He nodded his head and Lindsay sighed. "Joanie was killed first – she didn't suffer," she added quickly at the pained expressions on the two men's faces. "And then Tommy… his eyes and tongue were cut out."

The men were silent for a moment, both lost in thought, their faces blank as they contemplated their friend's gruesome end. "What does it mean?"

Lindsay looked up at Gus, shrugging her shoulders. "We don't know yet," she admitted.

"Maybe he saw something he shouldn't have," Paul suggested. "Maybe he said something he shouldn't have; ratted somebody out."

_Ratted somebody out_. It was the second time Lindsay had heard the same expression that day. She stared down at the battered and worn table top, her mind working furiously to fit pieces of the case together in a way that made some kind of sense. She had thought that Tommy's demise had been some sick form of torture, and maybe that was partially true. But what if it held a deeper meaning? His eyes - taken because he saw something; his tongue removed because he'd said too much.

"Can you guys excuse me for just a second?" she asked, getting to her feet and shoving her things back into her bag. Ignoring the catcalls from the barman and his entourage as she strode across the bar, she pushed open the front door and took a deep breath, inhaling the tangy, salty air – a refreshing change from the scent of stale cigarettes and sour beer that had stifled her senses inside. She pulled out her phone and selected a name from her list of contacts.

"Adam Ross."

"Adam, its Lindsay. Listen, I need you to look something up for me, okay?"

"Um… okay."

"I'm going to give you some names and I need you to search the system for them – not as victims, but as witnesses, alright?"

"Sure, just let me grab a pen." She listened to him rustling around for a moment. "Okay. Go ahead."

"Thomas Vanzella, Paul Cugini, Augusto Del Vecchio… and Daniel Messer."

"Vanzella… Cugini… Del Vecchio," Adam muttered to himself as he copied down the names. "And… what? Lindsay, are you… do you mean… _our_ Daniel Messer?"

"Yes."

"Lindsay, I can't… this feels wrong. Does Mac know about this? Why can't you just ask Danny? Or get somebody else to do the search?"

"Please, Adam?" she pleaded. "Tommy saw something. And he talked. And someone killed him because of it. I need to find out if the others are involved, too. I will ask Danny, I promise. But I need you to look. Please?"

"How far do you want me to go back?"

"As far as possible. I have a feeling this is an old grudge. Not something recent."

"But… that's… shit," Adam sputtered, ending with a sigh. "It's gonna take me a while. And I gotta clear it with Mac first."

"Fine. Just work as fast as you can, okay?" Lindsay urged. She heard Adam grunt in acknowledgement. "Thanks. You're the best."

* * *

Flack had spent all afternoon with the kid, going over picture after picture of suspects that Danny had put away, looking for someone that sparked a flicker of recognition in Ruben's eyes. But nothing.

"You did good today, Ruben," he said as he pulled up in front of the building that housed both Danny's and Ruben's apartments. "You were a real big help."

"Do you think Danny's mad at me?" Ruben asked quietly as he unbuckled his seatbelt. "I did a bad thing… does he hate me?"

"What? No way, kid," Flack assured him. "Not a chance. He knows you didn't do it on purpose."

Ruben turned and gave Flack a gap-toothed grin before he opened his door, the two of them heading into the building and up to the third floor where Flack handed Ruben off to his mother.

"I'm really sorry about all of this," Rikki said after greeting them at the door. "Please tell Danny we'll make it up to him."

"Don't worry about it too much," Flack said. "I have a feeling that guy would have gotten into Danny's place with or without Ruben's help."

"He's always been a really good neighbour to us." She looked over her shoulder to make sure Ruben was out of earshot. "I didn't think we'd ever be able to feel safe, you know? When my ex-husband turns up… it's really hard for both of us. I thought we might have to leave the city. But Ruben's got friends here, he loves his school. I didn't want to have to do that to him."

"I'm sorry. That's terrible."

"Yeah. But it could be worse," Rikki said, glancing across the hall to Danny's door, a new strip of security tape sealing the door shut after Flack and Danny had left earlier that day. "I always felt a little safer knowing he was across the hall. Not many guys would go out of their way to do something like that."

The wistful look on Rikki's face was not lost on Flack. He found himself wondering if Rikki could be… But no. Danny had arrived with Lindsay that morning. He wouldn't go out of his way to set up an elaborate ruse like that when he was really just across the hall, would he? Besides, Flack remembered Danny saying that Lindsay and his new girl were close… and he got the distinct impression from their conversation about Danny's emergency key that Lindsay wasn't exactly Rikki's biggest fan. She was nice though, and the kid was cute.

He pushed the thoughts from his mind, saying his goodbyes to Rikki and her son before heading back to the lab to check in with Mac. He rapped his knuckles against Mac's office door, entering when Mac waved him inside.

"How'd it go with the Sandoval kid?" Mac asked, leaning back in his chair.

"Meh. He didn't recognize anybody," Flack lamented as he dropped his lanky frame onto Mac's couch.

Mac sighed. "It was a long-shot at best, Don. We'll get there, don't worry."

"Yeah, I know. It's just…"

Flack was interrupted by a timid knock on the glass door of the office. He turned to see Adam Ross hovering out in the hall, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

"Come on in, Adam," Mac called out.

"Um… sorry to interrupt," he said, glancing at Flack and giving him a small smile. "I… um… Lindsay called. And, uh… she wants… she asked me to… But, I'm not…"

"Adam, come on son, spit it out," Mac said kindly.

Adam closed his eyes and took a deep breath before handing over the paper he'd been holding in his hands. "She wants me to look up these names as potential witnesses."

"To what?" Mac asked, his brow furrowed and his eyes fixed on Adam.

"Uh… she doesn't know," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "She thinks that, um, that Tommy… he might have seen something. You know, 'cause they took his eyes, I guess. And, well… the others… I said I had to talk to you first. If I'm going to look this stuff up… I thought I should make sure that, um, it's okay with you."

"Adam, you run searches all the time. Why do you need to clear this one with me?"

"Uh…"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Adam," Flack snapped, grabbing the list from Mac and skimming down the page. His eyes went wide as he saw the final name on the list. He looked up at Adam who was picking nervously at a stray thread on the sleeve of his shirt. "Adam, is this a joke?"

"What? No way!" Adam was indignant. "I would never… why would you think that? Lindsay asked me… and Danny, he's my friend…"

"What's this about Danny?" Mac asked, reaching for the paper Flack had snatched from him. His eyes fixed on the paper in front of him, his hand moved to take the phone from it's cradle on his desk and dial in a familiar number.

"Lindsay Monroe."

"Lindsay, what is going on? Why have you got Adam running background searches on members of my staff?"

He heard Lindsay let out a sigh. "It's not a background search, Mac. Not really."

Mac listened with rapt attention as Lindsay explained her reasoning, outlining the conversation she'd had with Paul and Gus.

"It might be nothing, Mac," she concluded. "But then again, it might be the piece that's missing from all these cases."

"Have you talked to Danny? Does he know you're doing this?"

"Um… not yet," she said. "I'm just on my way to see him right now."

"You find out what you can from him. I'll get Adam to start the search. But Lindsay?"

"Yes?"

"The next time you want to do something like this, you run it by me first."

"Right. I'm sorry, Mac," she said. "I just… it came to me so suddenly, and I wanted to get it started as soon as possible. It won't happen again."

"Good."

Mac placed the phone back in its cradle with a little more force than was necessary. Handing the paper back to Adam, he watched the lab tech scurry down the hall, back to the sanctuary of his computers. Then he turned to Flack and sighed, while Flack grinned back at him.

"What?" Mac asked, and Flack let out a chuckle. "What is so funny?"

"Nothing," he said. "I think Monroe has been hanging out with Danny too long. She's forgotten how the chain of command works."

"Get out of here," Mac said, tossing a stack of post-it notes at Flack. "Don't you have some other commanding officer to annoy?"

"Yeah, but I already used up my quota with him for the month."

"Well then go make yourself useful," Mac said, handing him a file. "Sheldon and Sid are down in the morgue examining the rat you guys found this morning. Go see what they're up to and get back to me."

"Aye, aye, Captain," Flack said, giving Mac a small salute before he headed for the elevators.

Mac watched him go, then let out a long, slow breath. Adam and Lindsay' request unnerved him slightly. It wouldn't have been the first time Danny had kept some part of his past hidden. He hadn't revealed his true involvement with the Tanglewood Boys until he'd been forced to do so by circumstances beyond his control.

It wasn't that Mac expected his employees – hell, his friends – to reveal everything about themselves to him. People needed their privacy, he knew that. He could only hope that Danny had learned from the experience with his brother, and that he had enough faith in Mac as a boss and as a friend to come forward with any information that might be helpful in solving their current collection of cases, no matter how damning it may be.

* * *

Lindsay had driven up and down the street, unsure which house was the one she was looking for. But then, on her third pass, she'd seen it: his familiar motorcycle parked in the driveway. She pulled the Avalanche to the curb and sat staring up at the house, so similar to Tommy Vanzella's. The yard needed a little work, but other than that, it was neat and the house itself was well-maintained. As dusk settled in on the neighbourhood, light poured out from a crack in the curtains hanging in the window the front room, and she could see shadowy figures moving around inside.

With a heavy heart, Lindsay pushed open the door to the truck and stepped out onto the road. She knew she had to talk to him, but she didn't want to. She hated the idea of dredging up his past, of pawing through his life like this. She walked up the narrow path to the front porch, ascending the steps slowly, dragging her feet in an attempt to avoid the inevitable. Raising her hand, she knocked on the door and waited. She could hear footsteps inside, and a female voice yelling from somewhere in the back of the house.

"Can someone please get the door?"

"I got it, Ma!" His voice, so familiar to her, stirred up the emotions inside of her. Suddenly, she couldn't do this. She didn't want to. It was none of her business. She turned to go, one foot already poised on the top step when she heard the front door open. She turned to see him standing in the open doorway. "Montana?" Her heart melted at the smile that lit his face at seeing her.

"Hey, Danny."

"What are you doing here?" he asked, stepping outside to join her on the porch, letting the screen door close behind him. Lindsay swallowed hard. She wanted to push aside all the distractions and just let herself go, falling into his arms and holding him, never letting him go. It was so tempting. He was so tempting, standing in front of her wearing the shirt she'd borrowed from him only a few mornings before, after the first time they'd made love.

Sensing her hesitation, he took a step toward her, reaching out and tucking a stray curl behind her ear. "You okay, Linds?" he asked. "What's the matter?"

"Danny… we need to talk."

**

* * *

So… before you beat me senseless, let me just tell you that I know there's not a lot of Danny in this chapter. I am fully aware of that fact, although it wasn't intentional. I promise on a bag of M&Ms to make it up to you, okay? **

**As always, I'm not an expert in policework or forensics, so I am completely making this up as I go along. I hope you'll bear with me. Any mistakes in procedures, etc. are all my own.**

**Now that I've got that cleared up, I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter. **


	10. Persuasion

**A/N: Thank you, thank you, thank you to all you lovely reviewers out there! Wow. Your amazing comments still manage to astound me, and I can't believe that you're still hanging on for more with this story! Merci beaucoup, mes amies!**

**Now, I bet you're wondering what's with the hold ups with not only this story, but also with **_**High School Daze**_** (for those of you who are also regular readers of that one). Well, the simple truth is that life ain't so hot right now, and things have been a bit stressful. I've got sick family members in and out of the hospital and my best friend just had major back surgery. Plus, with the holidays coming up, there just doesn't seem to be enough hours in the day for my stories on top of work and everything else. I've been writing when I can, and it's definitely been a great way for me to unwind a little, but unfortunately there just hasn't been a lot of time. I really appreciate your patience and I will try not to keep you waiting too long, although I can't really make any promises at the moment.**

**That being said, I've had a lot of fun writing this chapter, and I think that once you get started, you'll see why. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I have enjoyed writing it. **

* * *

He'd been setting the table for dinner when he'd heard the knock at the door. Peering into the kitchen, he saw his mother keeping a watchful eye on the array of pots and pans bubbling away on the stove.

"Can someone please get the door?" she bellowed without looking up.

Knowing his father was puttering around in his workshop out back, Danny had volunteered.

"I got it, Ma!"

He hadn't known who to expect when he opened the door, but it hadn't been her. Girl Guides selling cookies? Avon ladies peddling their wares? Maybe. But Lindsay Monroe - the woman who had engulfed his thoughts all afternoon? That was definitely a surprise, and a good one at that.

"Montana?"

"Hey, Danny."

"What are you doing here?" he asked, smiling broadly and stepping outside to join her on the tiny front porch, the cool damp of the wooden slats seeping through his socks. Although she was trying to hide it, he could see the flurry of emotions behind her eyes and he reached out, brushing a stray curl from her face. "You okay, Linds? What's the matter?"

"Danny… we need to talk."

_Uh oh_. Warning bells started going off in Danny's head. Those were not the words he wanted to hear from her. In his experience, those words were the prelude to other, more unpleasant words. Words like: "This isn't working," or "It's not you. It's me." He'd already heard the latter phrase from her once. He didn't think he could bear to hear her say it again.

She must have seen the panic on his face because she quickly closed the short distance between them and pulled him into a tight hug. "Oh... no, not _that_ kind of talk." She squeezed him around his waist, gracing him with a beautiful smile. "Sorry, Danny. I just realized how that must have sounded. It's nothing like that."

Letting out a sigh of relief, he gave her a lopsided grin. "No? Okay then. You talk, and I'll try to remember how to breathe."

"I'm so sorry," she said again.

"S'alright," he assured her. "You just scared me a little, that's all." He snaked his arms around her shoulders and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your unexpected company?" She pulled back and looked up at him with one eyebrow raised. He rolled his eyes. "What's up, Montana? How'd you find me?"

"Well, I was in the neighbourhood -" This time it was Danny's turn to raise his eyebrows, "- and I remember you said your parents lived around here, so I drove around hoping I could find you. Saw your bike parked in the driveway."

"Stalker," he quipped, laughing when she punched him in the arm. "Ow! What was that for? Jesus, you never heard of a phone? You could have called me and saved yourself the hassle."

"I tried but you weren't answering," she replied.

Danny patted down his pockets in search of his phone. Finding them empty, he suddenly remembered, giving her a sheepish grin. "Left it in my jacket. It's upstairs in my room."

"Aw! You still have your own room at Mommy and Daddy's?" Lindsay teased.

"You bet I do," he said, his voice dropping into a low, husky growl. "You wanna come check it out? I'll give you the grand tour. You'll like it - there's a bed and everything."

"Danny!" she giggled as he lowered his head to brush his lips against her neck. "Danny, stop. I really did come here to talk to you."

"So talk. I'm listening," he mumbled against her collar bone.

She tried to concentrate; they needed to talk. But she was finding it difficult to remember exactly what it was she wanted to talk about at this particular moment. Danny could be very persuasive when he wanted to be.

"Mmm," she sighed as he grazed his teeth across her pulse point. Talking be damned, she wanted him now. Her hands slid under the hem of his shirt and she lightly traced her fingers along his spine. Her breath caught in her throat when he responded by daring to let one hand skim down past her belt and into her back pocket, cupping her ass with his palm. "God, Danny, stop… we can't do this here."

"Can't do what here?" he asked, his mouth moving up her neck and she felt his tongue flick out to taste the spot behind her ear. "We're not doing anything wrong, babe. I'm just saying hello to my girl." She blushed and gripped him tighter and he pulled back, smiling down at her. "Hi, beautiful."

She bit her lip before returning his smile with a shy one of her own. "Hi."

"See? Perfectly innocent."

"Mmm… perfectly," she sighed, butterflies fluttering wildly in her stomach as he bent his head to capture her lips in a kiss. It was soft and surprisingly sweet, his lips moving slowly against hers. She thought she'd had him pegged her first few months in New York. He was a bad boy; a player. She'd never have imagined in her wildest dreams that there was this whole other side to him; one that was far more tender and affectionate than she'd ever given him credit.

"Daniel! Who's at the door?" The voice from deep inside the house drew the pair of them from their intimate moment. Danny pulled back from their embrace, an apologetic smile on his face as his mother's voice, lilting with the faintest hint of the accent that belied her Italian heritage, came closer. "If it's someone selling something, tell them we're not… Oh. Hello."

Lindsay smiled at the woman staring back at her through the screen door. She was small and had a pleasant plumpness to her and an amiable face. She could see traces of Danny's features in his mother, although she was dark where he was fair, with penetrating hazel eyes and espresso-black hair streaked with hints of grey. She held a long wooden spoon in her hand and the apron covering the front of her clothes was stained with dollops of what Lindsay could only assume was the marinara sauce that Danny always spoke so highly of.

"Ma, this is my partner from work, Lindsay Monroe," he said, gesturing to Lindsay with one hand and pulling the screen door open with the other. "Linds, this is my mother, Maria Messer."

"Hi, Mrs. Messer," Lindsay said, extending her hand for Maria to shake. "It's really nice to meet you. Sorry for just dropping by like this." Maria looked from one to the other of them, narrowing her eyes at Danny before she turned to Lindsay and smiled warmly.

"So, this is the partner I hear all about? Let me look at you," Maria said, shoving her wooden spoon at Danny. Bypassing Lindsay's outstretched hand completely, Maria cupped her face in her hands, her palms surprisingly soft and warm. She smelled deliciously of home cooking and Lindsay suddenly felt a sharp pang of homesickness for her own mother, 3000 miles away in Montana. "Daniel, you didn't tell me she was so pretty!" Maria exclaimed, pinching Lindsay's cheeks. She let go and turned to Danny, taking her wooden spoon from him and reaching up with her free hand to cuff him on the back of the head. "What's the matter with you? Where are your manners? You make this poor girl stand out here in the cold? And where are your shoes?"

"Sorry, Ma," Danny said, blushing furiously as his mother glared at him. Lindsay bit her lip to keep back the giddy laughter she felt bubbling up inside of her at seeing Danny Messer – her tough New York City cop – being told off by a woman half his size.

"So you should be," she snapped. She turned to Lindsay and smiled. "Have you eaten?"

"Oh, no. I don't want to intrude. I just came to talk to Danny…"

"Bah," Maria scoffed, waving off Lindsay's protests with a flick of her wrist. "Don't be silly. There's always room for one more at dinner." She took Lindsay by the arm and led her into the warm, inviting hallway, leaving Danny standing alone and completely mortified on the front porch.

"Um… well, thank you," Lindsay said, shrugging out of her coat and kicking off her shoes. "I am a little hungry."

Maria nodded her head in satisfaction. "Good. You young people today, you never eat enough. It's not healthy. Just look at my boy," she said, jabbing her spoon in Danny's general direction as he closed the front door behind himself. "He's skin and bones."

Danny rolled his eyes at his mother's theatrics and took Lindsay's coat from her, hanging it over the banister of the stairs leading to the second level. "Ma, I'm perfectly healthy. I eat just fine. And I'm not skin and bones. I just… I work out."

"Hmph," Maria huffed. "If I saw you more than once a month, Daniel, you'd be much more well-fed," she called over her shoulder as she marched away toward the kitchen.

"I'd be a fuckin' lard-ass, is what I'd be," Danny muttered, placing his hand on the small of Lindsay's back and gently guiding her down the hall.

Nearing the kitchen, Lindsay paused, causing Danny to bump into her. She turned, smiling at him as she ran her fingers up his chest then back down to his waist. Roughly, she grabbed his belt and pulled him closer, standing up on her toes so she could whisper in his ear.

"For the record, I like your body just fine, cowboy," she purred, reaching around and pinching his ass before she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and flounced into the kitchen, leaving Danny speechless and slightly dazed.

At the stove, Maria was ladling ribbons of cherry-red sauce over a mountain of pasta and Lindsay's senses were overwhelmed with the sights and sounds of home. The kitchen was small but cozy, and although it was cluttered with dishes piled high after a flurry of cooking, she had the distinct feeling that Maria Messer ran a tight ship and before the night was over, she was sure everything would be put back in its rightful place.

"Garlic bread needs cutting," she said to the room in general, "And someone can pour the wine."

"I'll help with the bread," Lindsay said, stepping up to the counter and eyeing the large loaf that Maria had just pulled from the oven. She saw Danny enter the kitchen, his eyes slightly glazed over and a smile on his face as he caught her eye. "Knife?" she mouthed, cocking her head inquiringly, and he nodded his head to the drawer on her right where she found the bread knife. He winked at her before he grabbed the bottle of wine that had been opened earlier to allow it to breathe and moved off to the dining room to fill the glasses.

"So, you work with my Daniel?"

Lindsay nodded her head, carefully slicing through the crusty loaf and setting the pieces on the plate Maria had left on the counter. "Yes. I do."

"You were here with him the other day," Maria continued. "Rita Pascuzzi said she saw Daniel with a woman partner. Although I think she said your name was Linda."

Lindsay smiled at the mention of Danny's nosy neighbour. "Yes, that was me."

"Hmm. It's so sad about that Vanzella boy and his wife. They were a nice young couple. He and Daniel were very close growing up. It must have been terrible to find them like that. But he won't talk about it. Not to me, anyway."

Lindsay set the last slice of bread on the plate and turned to Maria, giving her a small smile. "He will when he's ready. It's just… I think it's a lot for him to process right now. I know how important it is to talk about things like that, things that hurt you… but he needs to do it in his own time."

"Has he talked to you?"

Lindsay chewed on her lip and nodded her head. "A little."

"Well at least he's talking to someone," Maria sighed, turning her attention back to the bowl of pasta and sprinkling a handful of fresh herbs on top. "Do you like what you do?"

"Very much," Lindsay said, slightly relieved at the change of topic. "It's not always easy, but I couldn't see myself doing anything else."

"It's very dangerous?"

Lindsay wasn't sure if it was truly a question or a statement, and she looked up to see Maria staring back at her, her hazel eyes beseeching her to tell the truth.

"Well… it can be, I suppose," Lindsay said carefully. "But we take every precaution when we're working with dangerous chemicals in the lab and…" she trailed off, realizing that Danny's mother wasn't worried about the scientific aspect of their job. She smiled at Maria and laid her hand on the older woman's arm. "Danny is very careful, Mrs. Messer. He's very good at what he does. And besides, he's got all the rest of us to help watch his back."

"I worry," Maria sighed, resting her hands on the counter and lowering her head. "I worry so much about him. Especially… especially after…" She broke off and shook her head, taking a deep breath. She looked at Lindsay, giving her a watery smile. Lindsay didn't need for her to fill in the blanks. She knew exactly what Maria was referring to; the previous year a single incident had nearly cost one son his life, the other his job and his freedom.

"How is Louie these days?" she asked quietly.

"He's doing well," Maria replied, wiping her eyes with the hem of her apron. "He's still got a few years left, but he's taking the time to do some classes over the internet. He wants to get his high school diploma."

"Wow. That's great!"

Lindsay knew that after taking a beating from Sonny Sassone and his gang in order to clear Danny's name of the murder of Salvador Zabo, Louie had spent a considerable amount of time in the hospital recovering from his injuries. After he was well enough to be discharged, he was sent to a minimum security prison upstate to serve a commuted sentence for his part in the crime, his time substantially cut back thanks to the glowing letter of recommendation he'd received courtesy of Mac Taylor.

"Yes, it is," Maria agreed. "He and Daniel are even talking again. He hasn't been up to see him yet, but I know that one day he'll swallow his pride and visit his brother."

"He will. I'll make sure he does," Lindsay said and Maria beamed at her. Lindsay was taken aback as Danny's mother stepped forward and quickly embraced her in near crushing hug.

"You're a very nice girl, Lindsay," she said. "I wish Daniel would get off his lazy butt and find someone like you to bring home to me one day."

* * *

After filling the wine glasses, Danny had busied himself with finishing the job he'd started earlier and setting the rest of the table. His family wasn't one for big, elaborate displays for family meals, but his mother was very particular about how things were done, and even though the table was simple, he knew he had to get it right or he'd never hear the end of it. Especially now that they had a guest.

This wasn't exactly how he had pictured it, he thought with a sigh. Actually, he wasn't sure he'd ever pictured what it would be like to bring Lindsay home to meet his folks. He'd never allowed himself to think that far ahead, not wanting to be disappointed if things between them never got off the ground. But now that she was here, he wished he'd had more time to prepare. He wished he'd showered and changed – not shown up to answer the door with his face covered in scruffy stubble and wearing the same days old shirt he'd grabbed from her hamper this morning as a last resort. He wished he'd had a chance to prepare Lindsay for the whirlwind that was Maria Messer. And he wished that when he'd introduced her to his parents, he'd been able to say openly and honestly that she was his girlfriend.

Placing the last plate on the table, Danny turned and peered through the doorway into the kitchen. He blinked hard, not sure if his eyes were playing tricks on him. Was his mother… hugging Lindsay? He shook his head and rubbed his eyes with his fists before cracking them open and looking again. They had pulled apart now, but they were standing side by side at the kitchen counter, laughing at some joke he hadn't heard.

He leaned against the doorjamb, content to just watch the pair of them for a moment. She looked so at ease, here in the kitchen he'd grown up in. He smiled, lost in thought, his mind wandering off into what was, for him, uncharted territory. He'd never felt like this before; never even been close. Being around her his palms got sweaty, his heart started to race and he found himself having to fight off the near constant desire he had to touch her, even if it was just to stroke her hair or hold her hand. This was something brand new to him, and he was both excited and terrified by the whole thing.

What if he wasn't any good at this? What if he couldn't be the guy that she wanted him to be? That she needed him to be? Despite the turmoil that surrounded him – Tommy and Joanie, his ransacked apartment, the rat-cicle in his freezer – he was actually the happiest he'd been in a very long time - possibly ever - and he knew that had everything to do with the woman who was chatting animatedly in the kitchen with his mother.

"Who's the cutie?"

Danny turned to see his father emerging from the laundry room where he'd just been washing his hands in the wash basin after spending the afternoon working in his shop.

"My partner, Lindsay."

"Oh… the Montana girl," Joseph Messer said, nodding his understanding. "Damn. I was kinda hoping you'd finally grown up and decided to quit messing around and bring a respectable girl home to make your mother happy."

Danny rolled his eyes at his father, the pair of them quickly stepping up to help bring the dishes to the table as Maria called out that dinner was ready to be served.

* * *

Dinner was wonderful. Danny's parents were warm and inviting, and Lindsay was immediately set at ease. Sitting across from Danny, she'd blushed when she felt his foot seeking hers under the table. Glancing up at him, he'd been deep in conversation with his father, but he'd seen her watching him out of the corner of his eye and given her a wink, causing her blush to deepen profusely.

Maria had been blissfully unaware of the silent, flirtatious exchanges going on between the two of them, delighting Lindsay with stories about Danny growing up as she heaped more and more food onto Lindsay's plate. Finally, Lindsay had eaten her fill and set her knife and fork aside, sitting back in her chair and letting out a contented sigh as she rubbed her full belly.

Once everyone had finished and the table was cleared, Lindsay shooed Maria from the kitchen, volunteering Danny and herself to do the dishes. They transferred the leftovers to containers, setting them in the fridge and then Lindsay began washing, leaving Danny to do the drying and put the dishes away. They worked quickly and efficiently, and Lindsay was surprised by the feeling of contentment that welled up inside of her as they completed what would otherwise have been a simple domestic task. Usually she hated washing dishes, but with Danny hovering around beside her, chatting and joking with her, it felt completely different. She marvelled at how ridiculously happy she felt to just be with him, to have him near her.

She set the last pot in the sink, running the hot water and squirting a small dollop of dish soap into the steamy depths. Knowing that there was no use scrubbing the dried-on marinara sauce, Lindsay was simply going to let it soak. Once the pot was full, she reached to turn off the tap and felt Danny's hands sliding around her waist, pulling her flush with his body. She felt his breath on her skin as he swiped the hair from her shoulder and pressed a series of soft, fluttering kisses to the back of her neck.

"You done?"

"Mmm," she sighed in acknowledgement. "Gonna let it soak."

"Good." More kisses followed, his lips slowly moving from the back of her neck to her ear. He took her lobe into his mouth and sucked gently before releasing her, sending a delicious shiver down her spine as he blew lightly against the damp skin. "So… you want that tour I mentioned earlier?"

"Danny," she began to protest, "Your parents are…"

"Do you know what time it is?" he interrupted. She turned her head to look at him, her confusion evident on her face. He smirked back at her before placing a delicate kiss to the corner of her mouth. "It's 7 o'clock."

"And?"

"And at 7 o'clock every night the world stops for one hour so my folks can watch _Wheel of Fortune_ and _Jeopardy!_" He nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck, letting one hand slide up her front until he was delicately cupping her breast through the fabric of her blouse. "I could fuck you senseless right here on the kitchen table and they wouldn't bat an eyelash."

The combination of his words and the rough timbre of his voice had her knees wobbling and she leaned back into him to stop herself from collapsing right then and there. His careful touches and the sheer desire in his voice, paired with the low, dirty chuckle at her reaction had her insides twisting with longing for him.

"I want you, Lindsay," he continued, his hand gently kneading her breast. "I've been thinking about you all day. Don't make me beg. It won't be pretty."

She giggled, turning in his arms and sliding her hands up his chest and around his neck. "Actually, that's something I'd kind of like to see," she teased, lightly stroking the hairs on the back of his head with her fingers. "How badly do you want me?"

"So bad, Linds," he growled, tightening his grip on her waist and slowly grinding his hips against hers. "So fuckin' bad."

"Where can we go?" she asked, breathless as Danny once again lowered his head to tease her neck and jaw with his mouth.

"Anywhere you want, baby," he murmured. "I don't care. I just want you."

Lindsay considered her options. She wanted him, and she wanted him soon. As in, right now, if possible. But she knew she couldn't do it with him in his childhood bedroom while his parents watched their nightly programs one floor below. They could go back to her apartment, but that would mean waiting, and she didn't think she would be able to make it all the way back to the city without spontaneously combusting. She touched upon an idea that was sort of half way between the two of them, surprising herself with her boldness. It definitely wasn't the kind of thing she would have even considered two years ago. But here, now… with Danny's hands slowly exploring her body through her clothes… she was game for anything.

"Baby, take me out to the truck," she whispered in his ear, smirking to herself as Danny stopped, seemingly frozen at her words. "We'll find someplace quiet, somewhere private."

He pulled back, his face flushed and his eyes wide. "You serious?" he asked, barely daring to believe what he'd heard. Was she really suggesting what his lust-fevered brain thought she was suggesting?

"Never been more serious in my life, cowboy," she replied. She reached into her pocket, taking out the keys to the Avalanche and dangling them in front of his face. "Go get your coat. I'm leaving in two minutes with or without you."

He was gone in a flash, thundering up the stairs to grab his jacket, checking his pockets for everything he needed: phone? _Check_. Keys? _Check_. Wallet? _Check_. Condoms?

Condoms. _Shit_. They'd have to make a pit stop at the drug store before they went on their way, but that was no big deal. Better to be safe than sorry.

He made his way back down the stairs, smiling at the sight of Lindsay standing in the hall, already in her coat and shoes, waiting for him. He slid his feet into his sneakers, lacing them quickly, then poked his head into the living room where both his parents' eyes were fixed to the television as Vanna White pranced across the screen, turning letters as she went.

"We're going out for a bit," he said.

"Have fun," Maria said, her eyes still focused on the screen. "You have your key, Daniel?"

"Yeah, Ma. I got it," he said, opening the door and ushering Lindsay outside.

"Bye Mr. and Mrs. Messer!" she called out over his shoulder, hearing grunts of acknowledgement from the living room, followed by Maria's voice yelling at the television that the contestant should have listened to her and bought a vowel.

"Wow," she said as they walked side by side down the front path to the waiting Avalanche. "You weren't kidding. We could have set off a bomb in there and they never would have known."

"Told ya," he said. She unlocked the Avalanche using the fob and as they approached it, she surprised him by handing over the keys.

"This is your neighbourhood, Messer," she explained, settling herself in the passenger seat while Danny held the door open for her. "I'm putting myself in your hands."

He grinned at her before he shut the door and walked around the front of the truck, getting into the driver's seat. He buckled his seat belt and slid the key into the ignition, slightly startled when Lindsay raised the centre console that divided them and slid across the bench seat to sit right beside him, buckling herself in and letting her small hand rest casually on his thigh. He could feel her warmth pressed against his side and on his leg through the fabric of his jeans and he had to take a few deep breaths before he had composed himself enough to be able to drive.

"We, uh… we gotta make a stop first, babe. Hope that's okay," he said as he manoeuvred the truck through the quiet streets, flickering lights from front windows indicating that the Messers weren't the only family glued to the television at this time of night.

"Where?"

"Um… I need to get some… protection."

"I thought you always had a few with you for emergencies," she giggled, letting her hand slide a few inches further up his thigh. "What happened to always being prepared?"

"I only carry _one _in my wallet, Linds," he said, "And in case you forgot, we kind of used that up during our last emergency."

"How could I forget?" she murmured, squeezing his leg tighter in her hand. "You were so amazing, Danny. You made me feel so good." Danny's eyes widened as she leaned closer, her lips brushing against his ear as she proceeded to tell him exactly how good he made her feel and all the things she wanted to do to him once she got him all to herself.

"Fuck," he breathed, turning to look at her while they idled at a stoplight. "Fuck… if I'd known you had a mouth like that on you…" He shook his head, breathing deeply once again and trying to think of anything other than the way her hand was creeping closer and closer to the front of his jeans, which were steadily becoming far too tight.

"What would you have done, Danny?" she whispered, smiling coyly at him as her fingertips brushed against his fly. "Tell me."

"Shit…" he gasped, her fingers deftly massaging him now, electrifying his body with her touch. "I would have… I would have… oh, God. Lindsay… you're killing me; that feels so good. But you gotta stop. I can't drive while you're doing that."

"Then find somewhere to pull over," she said, not letting up.

"But we don't have…"

"There," she said, pointing just up the road where, to his great relief, was the illuminated sign of a Walgreen's. Danny pulled to the side of the road just down from the storefront and Lindsay mercifully pulled her hand from his crotch, pressing a kiss to his cheek before unbuckling her seat belt.

"You stay here… keep the car warm for me." She slid across the seat and opened the door. Before stepping down onto the sidewalk, she turned and smiled at him. "What size?"

"Linds, just give me a minute. I'll go in."

"Don't be silly," she smirked. "You don't want to go walking around Walgreen's like that," she said, gesturing to the prominent bulge in his pants. "Now tell me what size?"

Danny rolled his eyes, letting out a sigh as he felt his cheeks burning at her question.

"Um… large is fine."

"Really?" she asked, cocking her head at him. "I wouldn't have guessed that." He knew he must have looked ridiculous with his mouth hanging open, completely taken aback by her comment. He felt his gut twist and the heat in his face increase at the teasing little smile on her face. She slid across the seat, taking his face in her hands and brushing her lips softly, tantalizingly against his. "I'd swear you felt like _extra _large to me, baby."

"Fuck!" Danny gasped as she grasped him firmly one last time before sliding back across the seat, stepping down onto the pavement and closing the door behind her. Walking away, she turned and smiled at him over her shoulder, giving him a flirty wink before disappearing into the store.

Danny leaned back in the driver's seat, his hands clasped firmly around the steering wheel, closing his eyes and taking deep, steadying breaths to try to calm himself down after she'd gotten him all riled up. Who knew that his sweet, shy, unassuming girl from Montana could say and do all those things? He'd never have suspected she'd had it in her to talk dirty to him the way she had, and it sent shivers throughout his whole body at the thought of her delivering on each and every one of the promises she'd whispered in his ear.

Hearing the door open on the passenger side, he smiled. "That was quick. You get what you were looking for, babe?"

"Sure did, sweetheart."

Danny's heart leapt into his throat and his eyes flew open at the deep male voice that rang loudly in his ear. Before he could turn to see who was beside him, he heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked and felt the cool metal of the barrel pressed hard against his temple.

"Eyes forward, Messer," the voice said, twisting the gun slightly, the hard metal scraping against his skin and sending pain shooting through his skull. "Now drive."

"Okay. Okay," Danny said as calmly as his shaking nerves would allow. "Just stay cool. No one has to get hurt." He hazarded a quick glance at the store and his heart sank. Through the large front windows he could see Lindsay standing in line at the checkout, a happy little smile playing on her lips as she waited patiently to make her purchase.

"I said fucking drive!" the voice shouted, and Danny was granted a temporary relief from the pressure of the barrel against his head. That is until his assailant brought the butt of the gun crashing down against his cheek. He heard a sickening crack and his face exploded in pain, spots forming in front of his eyes and he felt something warm trickling down his jaw.

He raised his hand, wanting to assess the damage, but he felt the gun once again grinding into his temple and he heard the voice, now a sinister whisper in his ear. "Drive, or I swear to God I'll gut your little girlfriend just like I did to that Vanzella bitch."

Taking one last glance at the store, he saw Lindsay stow her wallet away in her purse and accept the plastic bag from the cashier, her purchase complete. She looked up, the smile on her face faltering as she stared back at him, shock and fear slowly dawning in her eyes. As he put the car into gear, he saw her frantically trying to push through the crowd of shoppers milling around the checkout. Before she could make it out onto the street, he had stepped on the gas, pulling out into traffic and disappearing into the night.

**

* * *

So, there we go. Some fluff, some (hopefully) fun moments with Danny's mom, a little teaser of smut and most importantly, some angst! **

**Your reviews and support are amazing, and they really, really make my day a little brighter... and my days could definitely use a little brightening right about now. Please feel free to let me know if you liked what you read. :)  
**

**I'm hoping to get at least one more chapter up before the holidays, but in case I don't – Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all of you!**

***rhymes***


	11. Rendezvous

**A/N: Well, looky here! It's two days before Christmas and as a last minute treat, I'm updating this story for you all! I didn't think I'd get it done, but I managed to find a few quiet minutes to piece this chapter together. **

**Thank you so very much to all those who reviewed! All I can say is "Wow!" I can't believe the response to Chapter 10 – you've all seriously outdone yourselves. Apparently I hit a bit of a nerve though, getting you all wound up for, as a few people put it, "a little something-something" in the backseat and then leaving you hanging with a twist ending. I'd like to say that I'm sorry for the cliff hanger, but you all know it would be a lie. All I can do is promise to make it up to you later. ;)**

**For the rest of you out there in FanFictionland who are reading this story, I really hope you're enjoying it! Thank you for coming back chapter after chapter!**

**Buckle your seatbelts and hang on to your hats, because here we go with Chapter 11!**

* * *

If someone had told Lindsay even a week ago that she would have been sitting in the front seat of one of the lab's trucks making out with Danny Messer, whispering all manner of filth in his ear, his body responding favourably to her touches and her words… well, she probably would have laughed right in their face. And yet here she was, practically in his lap, her hand touching him in ways she had only dreamed about until a few days ago, and he was putty in her hands. God, he tasted so good. His body felt so good. And he made her feel so very, very good.

They were both getting anxious, desperately in need of some release – and soon. But they couldn't. Not until they'd gotten some protection. As Danny begged for her to stop, for fear of causing an accident while her fingers massaged his hardening length, she saw it. The blessed sign. Their salvation.

"There," she said, pointing to the neon glow of the Walgreen's sign. "You stay here… keep the car warm for me." As she slid across the front seat, she realized she had no idea what size condoms she needed to get for him. Well, actually, she had a pretty good idea, judging from the way he felt inside of her, but she wanted to be sure.

The blush on his face as he tried to bluster his way out of divulging the information to her had been absolutely adorable. "Linds, just give me a minute," he pleaded. "I'll go in."

"Don't be silly," she said, trying hard to hide the smirk on her face as she stared pointedly at his crotch. "You don't want to go walking around Walgreen's like that." _And I don't want anyone else to see you walking around like that either_, she thought possessively. "Now tell me what size."

"Um… large is fine."

_Large? Really? Just large?_ Seeing the blush on his cheeks intensifying, she seized the opportunity to let him know that whatever his size, she wasn't complaining. He had nothing to be ashamed of as far as she was concerned. And she told him so, sliding back across the seat and running her tongue lightly across his lips. Her hand found it's way down to his crotch for one last reminder of what she had to look forward to before she slunk away, winking at him over her shoulder as she pushed her way through the front door of the store.

She laughed as she heard the cheesy yet familiar strains of Colour Me Badd's _I Wanna Sex You Up _playing over the small radio behind the front counter, the song seemingly appropriate for her current errand. She hummed along with the tune as she walked down the aisle, her eyes roving over the store's surprisingly varied selection of condoms. She hemmed and hawed for a moment, trying to decide between flavoured or ribbed for 'her pleasure', deciding in the end that she might as well get both. They would need them eventually. Hopefully sooner rather than later.

She sighed when she saw the line in front of her. Apparently _Jeopardy!_ was over and the residents of Danny's neighbourhood were once again venturing out of their homes. And it seemed to her as if they were all standing in front of her at the local Walgreen's. She waited patiently for her turn, blushing when she set her wares down on the counter and the teenage boy at the register raised his eyebrows at her, giving her what he seemed to think was an alluring wink.

She rolled her eyes, handing over her cash and taking the receipt and the plastic bag from him. As she turned to go, she glanced out the window to see if Danny had recovered yet from her little parting shot.

Her blood ran cold as she realized that there was someone in the car with Danny. The stranger had a gun pointed at Danny's head; and his face… oh, God. His face was bleeding. Had he been shot? What had happened? Dropping the plastic bag on the floor, she frantically tried to push past the crowd of people milling around the entrance, screaming his name as she emerged onto the sidewalk. But it was too late. He was gone.

She felt frozen, like a block of ice had settled in the pit of her stomach. She felt like she had all those years ago when she'd curled up on the bathroom floor of the diner as she listened to the screams of her friends being murdered one by one in the other room. She couldn't do this again. She couldn't lose someone else. Not now. Not him.

Taking a deep breath, she ran out into the middle of the road. She could just make out the taillights of the Avalanche a few blocks ahead. She jumped, hearing the honk of a car and the squeal of tires behind her, and she turned to see a cab screeching to a stop not two feet from where she stood.

"What the fuck?" the driver yelled, sticking his head out of the window. "Jesus, lady! What the hell is the matter with you?"

Before she even knew what she was doing, she had pulled her badge from her belt, flashing it in the startled cabbie's face as she got into the passenger seat next to him, slamming the door behind her. "Drive!" she commanded.

He sat and stared at her, a stunned expression on his face. "Wh-what? Look, lady, I…"

"Listen, buddy," she snarled, grabbing the collar of his shirt in her hand and looking him dead in the eye. "You start driving right now, or I will kick your ass out onto the street and drive myself. Either way, this cab better start moving in five seconds. Let's go!"

"Fuck my life. Just fuck it all to hell," he muttered to himself as he stepped on the gas, sending the cab speeding down the street. Lindsay buckled herself in, grabbing her phone from her pocket as she shouted directions at the driver.

"You see that black SUV up there?" She pointed at the Avalanche which was now several blocks ahead of them. He nodded his head. "Don't lose it. I need to know where it's going. Speed if you have to, I don't care."

"But…"

She held up her hand to silence him, pressing her phone to her ear. "Mac? It's Lindsay… Danny's been taken."

* * *

God, his head hurt. His vision was starting to blur from the blow he'd taken and the side of his face was throbbing with near blinding pain. He glanced at his assailant out of the corner of his eye, trying to remember if he'd ever seen this guy before. He'd called him Messer. How did he know his name?

"What do you want?" he asked, his voice thick, his tongue coated with blood. He must have bitten his cheek or cut the inside of his mouth when he'd been hit.

"What do I want?" the man chuckled. It wasn't a pleasant sound, not like a real laugh should be. It was hollow and empty. And terrifying. "That's easy, Messer. I want you."

"Why me?"

"Why not you?" The man pressed the gun harder into Danny's head, and he fought the urge to close his eyes in an attempt to guard against the pain as the barrel twisted viciously against his skull. "You don't even remember me, do you? Typical," he scoffed. "You are all the same. Tommy didn't remember me either. And neither did Sal."

"Sal?"

"Sal Trombino," the man said. "Oh, come on, Messer. I know you remember him."

_Sal Trombino_. That name… It had been a long time since Danny had heard that name.

"John Doe," he breathed, putting the pieces together in his head. "Sal Trombino is John Doe."

"Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!" the man laughed. "Is it all starting to make sense now, Messer?"

Danny's thoughts were in a tumult. Names and faces were beginning to twist and swirl in his mind, but he couldn't seem to grasp the connection. Every time he got close, the memories would twist cruelly away, and he felt as though he was trying to snatch wisps of smoke with his bare hands, the hazy tendrils slipping between his fingers, leaving him holding nothing but air.

Sal Trombino had lived on the same street as Danny and Tommy. He was already in his thirties when Danny had started high school. He'd worked at the foundry, putting in his 12 hour days and then returning to his home, living an almost hermit-like existence. As far as Danny knew, he'd never married. He had no kids. He kept to himself, never bothering anyone. So why had this guy suddenly taken it upon himself to beat the living shit out of Sal? And what did he have to do with Tommy? And himself?

"It's pathetic, really," the man mused aloud. "The three of you ruined my life – ruined it, Messer! – and you have absolutely no idea who I am." He let out a mirthless chuckle, shaking his head. "Turn here." He pointed to the turn-off up ahead leading onto the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge. Leading them away from Staten Island into Brooklyn.

As he signalled to make the turn, Danny glanced in the rear view mirror. A few cars behind them he saw a yellow cab… the same yellow cab he'd seen in the mirror only a few blocks from the store where this waking nightmare had begun. As it passed under the street lights lining the on-ramp, the interior of the cab was illuminated for a split second and his heart leapt up into this throat at the sight of the familiar face sitting in the passenger seat.

Lindsay.

The heaviness he'd felt at leaving her behind lifted momentarily, allowing him to breathe properly for the first time since he'd felt the gun against his head and heard his captor's chilling voice in his ear. He glanced at the man beside him, trying to regulate his breathing, not wanting to give any sign that they were being followed.

"Who was the girl?" the man asked, startling him from his thoughts.

"What?"

"That girl I saw get out of the truck. Who was she?"

Remembering what this man had done to Joanie Vanzella, Danny swallowed hard. He couldn't let this guy know what Lindsay meant to him.

"Just a friend," he said, hoping his voice didn't betray his feelings.

"Oh, yeah?" the man asked, and out of the corner of his eye Danny saw him smirk, raising his eyebrows. "You kiss all your friends the way you kissed her, Messer? I saw you. You spent the night at her place. And I saw you two out on your parents' porch."

Danny nearly drove off the road, jerking the steering wheel hard to keep the truck from veering off to the side and hitting the median as he realized how long this man had been watching him. Following him.

"Sorry if I interrupted your little rendezvous." The man chuckled again – cold and humourless. "She's real pretty. I was actually hoping to get some time alone with her," he said, a hint of malicious glee in his voice. "But when I saw you sitting all by yourself in this truck, I knew I couldn't pass up such a golden opportunity. But don't worry, Danny-Boy. I'll take good care of her after you're gone. Treat her real nice. She won't be lonely for long."

Something snapped inside Danny. Suddenly he didn't care that he had a loaded gun pointed at his head, his thoughts consumed with Lindsay and making sure that whatever happened to him, this sick bastard never got close enough to so much as breath the same air as her.

"If you even think about touching a single fucking hair on her head, I swear to God I'll…"

"You'll do what?" the man hissed menacingly, pressing the gun against his injured cheek, causing Danny to groan in pain. "That's what I thought. Now keep your fucking eyes on the road."

Danny seethed silently to himself. If something happened to him and this guy got away… He didn't even want to think about that possibility. He stole another cautious glance in the rear view mirror, both calmed and terrified at seeing Lindsay behind him, her face set determinedly as they sped across the bridge and into the Borough of Brooklyn.

* * *

"Any idea where he's going?" Mac asked, talking loudly so that his voice would be picked up over the speakerphone as he manoeuvred his own Avalanche out of the lab's underground garage and onto the street.

"No. We just crossed the bridge into Brooklyn, but other than that…" Lindsay sighed.

"Just keep your eyes on him as best you can. We're getting a mobile unit together and we'll try to get ahead of them and cut them off, alright?"

"I'll try, Mac," Lindsay said. "But we're heading into neighbourhoods where there's not a lot of traffic and I don't want to risk being seen if we get too close."

"The Avalanche is low-jacked and I've got Adam trying to pick up on the signal," he said. "Just do your best."

"He didn't look good," Lindsay whispered, and Mac could hear the anxiety in her voice. "He was bleeding, Mac. There was so much blood."

"Was he shot?" Hawkes asked from the backseat.

"I… I don't know," she replied. "I didn't see. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…"

"Kiddo, it's not your fault," Stella reassured her.

The silence on Lindsay's end of the line implied that she disagreed with Stella's statement.

"Tell me again what happened," Mac said. "Any detail could be important. Did you notice anyone following you?"

"No. We… I wasn't paying attention. I didn't think…"

"What about when you stopped? Did you see anyone suspicious?" Mac interrupted, not wanting Lindsay to get sidetracked by her apparent guilt. "Anyone paying too much attention to the truck, or to Danny?"

"I don't know," she wailed. "I just don't know!"

"Flack's on his way to the store you mentioned," Stella informed her. "He's got uni's talking to potential witnesses now, and he's going to have a look at the surveillance tapes to see if he can't get an idea where this guy came from. The manager said they've got a camera focused on the cash register and one on the front door, so we might be able to see what happened in the truck after you got out. Maybe get a better look at the guy, alright? So just sit tight and stay calm. We'll get Danny back."

"Okay. Okay," Lindsay said, and they could hear her taking deep breaths over the phone. "We'll get him back. We _will_ get him back."

"Call us if anything changes, okay? If you lose them or if they stop for any reason, we need to know. You got that?"

"Got it. I'll stay in touch."

Hearing the line go silent, Stella closed Mac's phone and handed it back to him.

"You think this was just a random carjacking?" Hawkes asked, "Or are we thinking that whoever this guy is, he was targeting Danny specifically?"

"We can't make any assumptions just yet," Mac replied, his eyes focused on the traffic in front of him as he sped through a red light, blasting his horn as he veered into the oncoming lane, narrowly avoiding a collision with a truck that either didn't see or chose to ignore the flashing lights and blaring sirens. "But based on the events of the past few days – that pin was meant for Danny to find; his apartment getting trashed and the rat in his freezer - I'd say it's a fair bet this wasn't random. Whoever this guy is, he's after Danny. And God knows what his plans are."

* * *

"Alright, stop the tape there," Flack said. He was sitting in a cramped office at the back of the store, leaning over the shoulder the Walgreen's night manager – a spindly, nervous little man named Harold - as he rewound the surveillance tapes from earlier that night. At his command, Harold pressed pause, leaving the grainy black and white image frozen on the screen. Danny was sitting alone in the truck, leaning back against the headrest with his eyes closed.

"Okay. Now press play."

He let his eyes wander around the screen, keeping a close look-out for anyone approaching the vehicle. Finally, he saw it. A figure in a dark sweater was glancing surreptitiously around him as he crept into the frame, his face hidden in the shadows. He opened the passenger door of the truck and got in, pressing his gun against Danny's head and startling him.

Flack flinched as he watched the man slam his gun into Danny's face, anger slowly simmering deep down in his gut at the thought of his best friend being manhandled so viciously. A dark smudge had appeared on Danny's cheek where he'd been hit, getting larger as the blood dripped from his face and down his neck. The man pressed the gun back to Danny's temple and for a moment, Danny looked up. Lindsay was pushing her way through the doors and Danny stared at her for a moment… and then he was gone.

"Fuck!" Flack exclaimed, slapping his hand down on the back of Harold's chair in frustration, causing the jittery little man to jump. "Motherfucker… kept his back to the camera the whole damn time!"

He paced around the tiny office, clenching his fists and muttering to himself while Harold looked nervously on. Eventually, Flack had calmed himself enough to think rationally once again, and he grinned sheepishly at Harold.

"Sorry," he said, and Harold laughed uncertainly. "Can we go back a little further? I want to see if this guy was hanging around out front before they pulled up. Maybe we'll get lucky and get a better look at him."

"Oh, uh... S-sure thing, officer," Harold said, once again going through the process of rewinding the tape. He wound back a few minutes, pressing play and letting the tape run forward in slow-motion. "Oops. Is that too far?" he asked.

"Nah. We'll just wait for their truck to pull up," Flack said, glancing at the empty parking spot out front of the store. "Keep your eyes open for that guy we saw, okay buddy?" Flack instructed and Harold nodded. "Ah, here they come."

The Avalanche lurched to a stop in front of the store and Flack kept his eyes trained on the surrounding area – the sidewalk, the entrance to the store, the traffic speeding by on the street. He sighed in resignation, not seeing anyone even remotely fitting the description of the man they were after.

"Oh… my," Harold gulped and Flack looked to where he was pointing, his jaw almost hitting the floor at what he saw.

"What the fuck…?" he said under his breath as he watched the two figures sharing an intimate moment in the cab of the SUV. "Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. No fucking way!"

He rubbed his eyes, blinking and looking again. That couldn't be right. It just couldn't be. Danny would have told him… Or Lindsay. One of them would have said something to him... wouldn't they?

He thought back to the conversation he'd had with Danny in the hallway outside his apartment that morning. He'd asked why Danny had confided his new relationship with Lindsay and not him. Suddenly, Danny's response took on a whole new meaning.

_Lindsay knows because… because her and my girl... they're real close._

"Fucking hell… _she's_ his girl?"

**

* * *

Mwa ha ha!**

**Oh, that was fun to write! Have I totally confused you now? Are you wondering what the heck is going on? I know I've answered one question (Who is John Doe?) but I've just brought up like a thousand more in its place.  
**

**Don't worry, my lovelies. All in good time.**

**I was going to skip Flack finding out about them – save it for the next chapter - but I thought that it being the season of giving and all, I'd leave it in as a little Christmas treat.**

**Any thoughts on this chapter? Love it? Hate it? Frustrated as all hell at my refusal to just let you all in on what's going on? Then leave me a review and let me know!**

**Merry Christmas!**

***rhymes***


	12. Do Something

**A/N: Heeeeeere's rhymes! LOL. Yes, yes. I'm back. My humble apologies for keeping you all waiting over the holidays. In my defence, I've had a pretty hectic time. Lots of travelling, not a lot of time for writing or even resting for that matter. I managed to get in a few paragraphs here and there, but I had to wait until I got home before I could really just knuckle down and get this chapter out.**

**Huge thanks to all those who reviewed the last chapter. I realize that the holiday season is a busy one for everyone and I appreciate all the more the fact that people took time out to leave me a little Christmas treat. Thank you!**

**On a side note: For those of you waiting for more from _High School Daze_, please rest assured that I am working on the next chapter as we speak. Again, not a lot of time to work on it over the past few weeks, but I've got tons of ideas swirling around in my tiny little brain and I can't wait to get them out to you. So just hang in there for a little while longer!**

**Now, that's enough from me. You didn't wait all this time just to read my Author's Note, did you? I didn't think so!**

* * *

Sid Hammerback looked up from his work at the electronic beep coming from his computer. Rolling his chair over to the desk in the corner of his subterranean office just off the cold, sterile examination room of the morgue, he snapped on his glasses and moved the mouse to click on the email icon on his desktop.

_From: Dr. R. Hastings, NY State Criminal Justice Department of Dental Records_

_To: Dr. S. Hammerback, NYPD Medical Examiner_

_Subject: John Doe # 45311- Match Found_

Sid scanned his eyes down the page, feeling elated - as if he was actually doing something useful for the first time since he'd begun to work on the two seemingly connected cases of John Doe and the Vanzellas. Of course he'd been able to determine causes and times of death for all three victims, but he felt as though all he'd done so far was bring up more questions. Finally, he was able to answer one of them.

Picking up his phone, he dialled Mac's number.

"Bonasera."

"Oh… uh, sorry, Stella. I was looking for Mac."

"You got him, Sid," Stella assured him. "He's just driving at the moment. Hang on while I put you on speakerphone… There. Can you still hear me?"

"Loud and clear, my dear."

"Sid? It's Mac. Whadya got for me? Find out anything more about that rat?"

"Nothing definitive so far," Sid replied with a sigh. "Stomach contents were all over the place – garbage, pieces of cardboard - which I assume came from the box it was kept in – and there were small chunks of semi-digested meat of some kind… probably from leftovers someone threw out or something. I'm running tests just to be sure. But, that's not why I called, Mac."

"Oh?"

"We have a positive ID on our John Doe. Dental Records finally confirmed it."

"Yeah? So who's our guy?" Mac asked.

"Name of Salvatore 'Sal' Trombino," Sid read from the Dental Records report. "52 year old male. Unmarried. Lived alone… it says here he lived about 3 or 4 blocks up from Tommy and Joanie Vanzella."

"Does it look like there's anything connecting this Trombino guy to Vanzella?" Stella asked. "We need to find a reason why someone would want both of these men dead… and why so violently."

"Well, I can't be much help to you there, Stella," Sid lamented. "As far as I can tell, the only thing they had in common was that they lived in the same neighbourhood. Other than that… your guess is as good as mine."

"Sid, I want you to give that name to Adam," Mac said. "He's already running a search for Danny and his friends Gus, Paul and Tommy. Ask him to add this Trombino guy to the list. See if anything turns up."

"You got it, Mac," Sid replied. "Any word on Danny?"

"Nothing so far," Stella replied worriedly. "Lindsay called a few minutes ago. She's still following him, but it's getting harder. They're entering quieter neighbourhoods now, and the cab sticks out like a sore thumb. She has to keep her distance and risk losing him…"

"Or else risk being seen," Sid finished for her. His heart went out to Lindsay. God, what she must be going through! It was the age old story of having to choose between two equally unpleasant options – the pit and the pendulum or the proverbial rock and a hard place – neither of which were guaranteed to end well. Sid shuddered to think how horrible she would feel if something happened to Danny and she'd never told him…

He thought back to the conversation he'd had with her so many months ago. She'd made a quip about why Danny always called her Montana, and without even thinking about etiquette or protocol, Sid had blurted out that Danny had a crush on her. He'd felt like a right jack-ass the moment the words were out of his mouth – it was no business of his how Danny felt about his co-worker, and it certainly hadn't been his place to divulge his secret. His guilty conscience was somewhat relieved by the tiny smile that had spread across Lindsay's face. She tried to hide it, and in fact Sid had almost missed it. But it was there – if only for a fraction of a second – and in that instant, Sid knew that Lindsay had a wee bit of a crush right back on him.

He still had no idea if Lindsay had ever relayed their conversation on to Danny or told him how she really felt about him, but he had seen things progress between them, only to fall flat a few months later when the stress of the trial hit Lindsay like a ton of bricks. And now that she was back from Montana, he'd watched the two of them bantering and flirting as if they'd never missed a beat, picking up right where they left off. Neither of them had said it outright to him, but he knew there was something there… something more than just partners or friends.

He shook his head, realizing that Hawkes was saying something.

"God, I can't imagine. What a Catch-22. Which is worse? Losing him or possibly putting the both of them in danger by keeping him in sight?"

"I know," Stella sighed. "Sid, keep us posted on that rat, alright? And make sure you talk to Adam right away. Give him that name."

"I'm on it right now," Sid replied.

Ending the call, he gathered his notes and picked up the phone to call Adam and pass on the information about their former John Doe – Mr. Salvatore Trombino.

* * *

Everything had started so simply when Danny and Flack had come back to the lab a few days ago with their John Doe's body. Danny had found a scrap of paper in the man's pocket – bloodied and crumpled to the point that any writing that may have been on it had long since been destroyed. Adam had tried himself to decipher any possible markings on the paper – pen indentations, residue from the ink – anything. But he'd had no luck and had eventually been forced to send the paper off for imaging to a specialist in recovering latent writing.

Since then, Adam had been kept busy, which was fine by him. He was used to a heavy workload. In fact, he preferred it to just sitting around twiddling his thumbs all day. With Danny on a forced leave of absence, everyone had been asked to do a little more around the lab. No one had minded at all, least of all Adam. He knew that if their roles were reversed, Danny would have been first in line to cover for him if the need arose.

But now the game had changed. Danny was missing and Lindsay was off tailing him while Mac, Stella and Hawkes were trying to head off Danny and his captor. This left Adam in the lab trying to keep track of all the extra tasks that had suddenly fallen into his lap. He had delegated a few things to other techs – the new girl, Kendall was working on getting prints off of the key Danny had given to his neighbour, while Adam was trying to pick up on the LoJack signal from the Avalanche, as well as keeping track of Lindsay's search into Danny and his friends. To top it off, Sid had just called and added yet another name to that list – Salvatore Trombino.

With a sigh, Adam typed the name into his database then leaned back in his chair and stretched, rubbing the back of his neck. Then he turned his attention back to the program that was attempting to lock on to the Avalanche's LoJack signal. He sat up straight as a tiny red blip appeared on the monitor. It was moving slowly through some back alleys in an unsavoury area of Brooklyn, and Adam reached for his phone, happy to finally have some good news to pass on to Mac and the others. He paused mid-dial, cocking his head to the side and squinting at the monitor.

"Now why would he…?" Adam mused to himself as he watched the blip turn down a dead-end street. He continued dialling the rest of Mac's number. "Mac? It's Adam. I finally tracked down the Avalanche…"

"That's great, Adam," Mac said over the speakerphone. "Stella's on her phone with Lindsay – she lost Danny a few minutes ago. Where is he? What direction is he heading?"

"That's just it, Mac," Adam said, an uncomfortable queasiness settling in the pit of his stomach. "He's not moving in any direction."

"What?"

"He stopped."

"Shit," Mac muttered. "Where, Adam? Where?"

Adam rattled off the address, listening to the screech of tires as Mac pulled a U-turn and Stella passed on the Avalanche's location to Lindsay.

"Stay on the line, Adam," Mac shouted. "You let me know the second that truck starts to move, you got that?"

"Got it, boss," Adam said, his eyes glued to the screen in front of him. "Come on, Danny," he muttered under his breath. "Come on man… move. Move!"

* * *

Aside from giving Danny the occasional direction to turn here or there, the man had become very quiet over the past several minutes. Unnervingly quiet, actually. Danny couldn't help but think of his stillness and silence as the calm before the inevitable storm. They were winding their way through some fairly unpleasant neighbourhoods now, and Danny had a sense of déjà vu, as if he'd seen some of these streets before – and fairly recently – although he couldn't quite pinpoint when.

He glanced occasionally in the rear-view mirror to see if Lindsay was still behind them. Every once in a while his heart would leap up into his throat when he didn't see her, sending him into a panic. But then he would look a few minutes later to see the lights of her taxi reflecting back at him. He chanced a quick peek into the mirror, his brow furrowed in concern. It had been some time since he'd seen her behind him now, and he was getting worried. He hoped that she hadn't fallen behind, that she hadn't lost him. She was all he had right now. The only thing keeping him sane in this moment was the thought that she was somewhere close by, the reassurance he needed that he wasn't alone in this.

"Turn here," his captor said suddenly, startling Danny out of his thoughts and nudging him with the barrel of his gun. Danny did as he was told, turning right onto a dingy and unkempt alley littered with garbage. He drove a ways down the narrow street then stopped. His eyes wide, he turned to the man sitting beside him. Straight ahead of him, about 100 feet away, was an imposing brick wall. They were at a dead end.

"What…?"

"You think I'm fucking retarded or something, Messer?" the man growled, pressing the gun painfully into Danny's injured cheek. "You little dipshit. You think I don't see that we're being followed? I got eyes you know. It's that little bitch of yours, isn't it?"

"I... I…" Danny stammered, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You fucking little prick," the man roared, bringing the gun down once again against Danny's already fragile face. The pain was nauseating and Danny's world began to spin around him leaving him dizzy and disoriented.

"I guess I'll just have to satisfy myself with that sweet little girlie of yours. Someone's got to help her deal with her grief after losing you, not that you're that much of a catch." He dug the gun into Danny's forehead, a wicked smirk on his face. "I have to say, though, you have your uses. Thanks to you, I know where she lives." The man's sneering voice sounded distant, almost an echo as Danny cradled his injured cheek in his hand, panic rising in his chest as he thought of this man lurking outside of her building, creeping down her hall, sneaking into her room... "I'll take good care of her Messer. Let her know what it's like to be with a real man… don't you worry."

"Unh," Danny grunted, his vocalization a mere shadow of the panic-ridden voice screaming inside his head. _Fuck, Messer! Do something! Do something! You can't let him get to her. He can't have her. Think, Danny. Think._

"Fucking little rat bastard," the man seethed. "You think you can just get away with ruining someone's life?" He chuckled, that empty, ominous chuckle that sent shivers down Danny's spine. "You like the little present I left for you in your place? Poor little guy. He's probably dead by now. I was hoping to give him one final snack… let him finish you off the way he did with Tommy. But that's life, I guess." Again, the humourless laugh as he drew something from his pocket. Something sharp and dangerous. Though his vision was getting foggy, Danny knew what it was. He could see the dried blood crusted on the edge of the blade. "Now be a good boy Messer, and show me those big blue eyes… or would you rather open that fat yap of yours and let me take your tongue first?"

He tried to think back – had the man put on a seatbelt when he'd gotten in the truck? Danny wasn't sure… he didn't think so. Forcing himself to concentrate, he willed his body to listen to his brain… hoping against hope that his plan would work. It was feeble at best – a long shot. But it was worth the risk he was taking, worth the pain he knew would soon follow. _She_ was worth it.

Straightening himself up in his seat, he jammed his foot against the accelerator, the Avalanche's wheels spinning and squealing loudly before they found purchase on the wet pavement and the truck surged forward, quickly picking up speed. He heard the man beside him screaming for him to stop, followed by a sharp, burning ache as the knife slid easily into his side. The culmination of all the pain was almost unbearable and Danny began to lose his focus. Spots were forming before his eyes, his vision fading until all he could see in front of him were shapeless blurs of light and dark. He was bombarded by a cacophony of sounds; the rev of the truck's powerful engine, the screech of the tires against the asphalt, and the sickening crunch of metal as it collided with brick and concrete.

Then there was nothing but silence and dark.

* * *

"Stella, I lost him!" Lindsay shouted into her phone as she and her driver trundled slowly down the deserted and decrepit streets, both of them craning their necks down each and every alleyway looking for the telltale signs of the Avalanche's tail lights.

"Okay, Lindsay. It's okay," Stella soothed. "Calm down. Where are you?"

Lindsay peered out of the passenger side window, looking for a street sign. She gave the name of the intersection they were just passing when she heard Mac's voice in the background.

"Stay on the line, Adam… you let me know the moment that truck starts to move, you got that?"

"Stella? What's going on?" Lindsay asked.

"The Avalanche… it stopped."

"Where?"

"About three blocks east of you," Stella said, consulting her GPS. She gave Lindsay the location along with a warning. "Linds, it's a dead end. Just stay back, alright? It could be a trap. We're about three minutes away. Hold on until we get there, alright? Please? Don't go in there by yourself."

"What if he can't wait that long, Stell?" Lindsay asked, her panic creeping into her voice. "He looked like he was hurt pretty badly. What if he's… what if…"

"Lady! There it is!" the cabbie said, pointing out the window down a narrow and foreboding alley as they passed through the intersection. Lindsay could just make out the faint red glow of the tail lights a ways down the street. The cabbie pulled to the curb a few feet away from the entrance to the alley, putting the taxi in park and crossing his arms over his chest. "You want me to go down there, you pay extra," he said. "A lot extra."

"Lindsay, don't…" Stella warned.

Lindsay didn't know what to do. Why had Danny stopped? She knew that the smart thing to do would be to wait. Wait for Mac, Stella, Hawkes and the rest of the mobile unit to catch up with her. That was what her training was telling her to do. But her instinct – hell, her heart – was screaming at her that something was wrong. She needed to get down that alley. He needed her – right now.

"Thanks for the ride," she said, shoving open the passenger door of the cab and creeping toward the corner, peering down the alley, her phone still clutched tightly in her hand, Stella's voice carrying faintly to her ears in the quiet of the night.

"Hey! You pay now!" the cabbie called after her and she turned and glared at him, raising a finger to her lips, indicating that he needed to be quiet.

"Send an invoice to the City," she hissed. "Or wait for the rest of the cops to show up – they'll be here in a few minutes."

He rolled his eyes, reaching across the front seat and pulling her door closed. She watched him speed away, leaving her stranded and alone in a dark and dismal neighbourhood. He gave her the finger through the driver side window before he rounded the corner and was lost from sight.

"Dick," she muttered under her breath. Her gun pulled and at the ready, Lindsay began to make her way down the alley, moving as quickly and silently as possible while trying to remain unseen to unfriendly eyes that could be watching from the truck, quietly relaying her movements to Stella. She crept through the shadows toward the immobile truck when she was startled by the sound of the Avalanche's tires squealing against the pavement and it suddenly lurched forward on a collision path with the large brick wall at the end of the alley. Above the roar of the engine she thought she heard shouting. She began to run – staying quiet and out of sight be damned – her heels clacking loudly as she pounded down the cold, wet street.

She stopped in her tracks when she heard the sickening crunch of metal as the truck hit the wall. There was the hiss of steam from the engine and then nothing but the thud of her heart as it beat loudly in her throat, and her own hoarse voice calling Danny's name.

"Oh, God… Danny? Danny!"

Her gun clutched tightly in her shaking hand, she approached the wreck, keeping a watchful eye for movement in her peripheral vision. But there was nothing. She crept up to the driver's side door and peered inside, hot tears welling up in her eyes as she took in the scene in front of her.

Danny slumped forward in his seat, his body held in place by his seatbelt and his head lolling forward. Lindsay could see that the Avalanche's airbag hadn't been deployed and he'd smacked his head hard against the steering wheel, opening up an ugly gash in his forehead. Looking past him, she could see the other man sprawled out over the dashboard, apparently having forgone his seatbelt. There was a crack in the windshield where his head had connected with the glass, shards of which were embedded in his face and one arm was bent at an unnatural angle.

She took a step back, surveying the crash, her nostrils burning with the familiar scent of gasoline. Her breath caught in her throat as she realized she was standing in a shallow puddle that was leaking from somewhere under the truck. Remembering that she still had Stella on the line, Lindsay raised her phone to her ear.

"Stella?"

"I'm here, Lindsay. What happened?"

Shaking her head, she had no words to describe the wreck in front of her. "Please… just hurry," she whispered. "And bring an ambulance."

"We're almost there, Linds," Stella reassured her. "The ambulance is right behind us. Just wait for us, okay? Please… don't do anything stupid. Just wait -" before she could finish her sentence, Lindsay had snapped her phone shut, disconnecting the call and shoving her cell deep into the pocket of her jeans. She had to work quickly.

Holstering her sidearm, Lindsay reached for the driver's side handle, giving it a firm tug. The door groaned heavily on its hinges as she inched it open, pulling frantically on it now. She needed to get him out of there.

Once she had the door open enough that she could angle her body between it and the cab of the truck, Lindsay squeezed into the small space, her trembling fingers reaching up to Danny's neck, desperately searching for his pulse. It was faint, but it was definitely there. She lifted herself up on the running board, pressing one foot against the side of the truck. She leaned back against the door, groaning with effort as she used her body as leverage to shove it open further.

Panting hard, Lindsay gave one final shove and the door creaked loudly and then stopped moving. It was jammed, but it didn't matter. It was wide enough to allow her to get herself in and Danny out.

Taking her folding knife from her pocket, Lindsay cut away Danny's seatbelt, one arm bracing his body and keeping him from slumping forward and hitting his head again. After a few false starts, she finally got a grip on his body, grasping him under his armpits as she heavead him from his seat. She winced as her hand brushed against something lodged in his side just below his rib cage. She hoped that her sharp jerky movements weren't doing further damage as she dragged him back as far away from the truck as her adrenaline-fuelled body would allow.

She laid his body on the sidewalk and shrugged off her jacket, bunching it into a ball and placing it under his head. She had just knelt down beside him with her back to the truck when she heard a loud whoosh as the gasoline that collected around the crash site ignited. She turned, watching in horror as the truck was quickly engulfed in flames. Any hope of getting to the other man was instantly forgotten, and Lindsay threw her body over Danny's, shielding him as they were rocked by the impact as the gas tank exploded, sending bits of shrapnel whizzing past her. She let out a cry as a sharp piece of hot metal embedded itself in her arm.

"Shit! Ow!" she hissed as she pushed herself back up into a crouching position, staring down at Danny's battered and bloodied face. "Come on, Danny," she whispered as she re-checked his pulse. Still faint. She lowered her ear to his mouth, heaving a sigh of relief as she felt his faint breath against her cheek. She could hear sirens now, their piercing wail like music to her ears as they neared. "Hang on, baby. Help is on its way. Just hang on, Danny. Don't leave me. Not now. Stay with me, baby. Stay with me."

The tears that had welled up in her eyes began to fall as she gently stroked his hair, heedless of the blood that now coated her fingers. "Come on, baby. Open your eyes, Danny. Let me know that you're alright." She took his hand in hers, squeezing his cold fingers and rubbing them in the hopes of restoring some of the warmth to his numbed extremities. "Please, baby," she whispered, brushing her lips against the back of his hand. "Come on, honey. Wake up. Open your eyes. Squeeze my hand… anything!"

Lindsay was temporarily blinded by the bright flash of headlights as the mobile unit arrived, Mac's truck in front followed by an ambulance, several police cruisers and a firetruck. Voices carried over the roar of the fire behind her, followed by the slamming of doors and the clatter of footsteps against the asphalt. She felt a hand on her shoulder and she turned to see Stella smiling down at her.

"Hey, kiddo. You alright?"

"He won't wake up," she said quietly. "He won't wake up, Stella. He won't wake up."

"Oh, Lindsay," Stella said, kneeling down beside her and pulling her into a tight hug. Suddenly overcome, Lindsay let out a shuddering sob as she buried her face in her friend's curly hair. "Shh… it's okay, kiddo. You'll see. He'll be fine. You'll both be fine."

"I'm sorry," Lindsay wailed. "I know you said to wait, but I just couldn't. If I had, he would have… I just couldn't leave him, Stella."

"I know, sweetie," Stella sighed. "I know you couldn't." She rubbed Lindsay's back as her sobs faded in to soft whimpers. "What happened, Linds?"

As Lindsay went over the events with Stella, starting with prying Danny from the truck to the explosion, Hawkes rushed over to them, skidding to a stop and crouching down on Danny's other side, shouting instructions at the EMTs.

"Male, 30 years old," Hawkes said as he peeled back Danny's eyelids and shone a bright penlight into his eyes. "Pupils dilated and non-responsive. Pulse weak and thready. He's breathing, but just barely. Looks like he's lost a significant amount of blood. Contusions to the face and head. Possible neck injury and..." he bent down, peering at the jagged wound in his side and the knife embedded within, "... significant soft-tissue damage to the right torso with external blood-loss and possible internal bleeding. Let's get going guys. Move it! Let's go! Move!"

In the midst of all the commotion surrounding them, Lindsay almost missed it; the faint pressure as Danny squeezed her fingers. She sat up, pulling her face from Stella's shoulder and looked down at him as Hawkes and the paramedics placed a brace around his neck.

"Danny?" she asked, a trace of excitement in her voice. "Baby, can you hear me?" Again, the pressure on her fingers, but fainter this time. "Oh, God… Sheldon! He squeezed my hand!"

"Yeah? That's great Linds," he said as he and the paramedics lifted Danny onto the stretcher. "See if you can get him to do it again."

Once he was resting on the thin padding of the stretcher with his limbs strapped in tightly, the paramedics raised it on its telescopic legs and began wheeling it toward the waiting ambulance, Lindsay keeping pace at its side, pleading with Danny to squeeze her hand again.

"Do it again, baby," she urged. "I know you can hear me, honey. Please, Danny..."

"Sorry, Miss. There isn't room for you in here," one of the paramedics said, gesturing toward the ambulance.

"What? No! No, I'm going with him," she informed the paramedic once the stretcher was locked in place in the back of the ambulance. "Sheldon? Please! I need to go with him." She squared her shoulders defiantly, waiting for someone to tell her she couldn't go, daring anyone to cross her.

Instead of arguing, Hawkes turned to the man that had dismissed Lindsay. "She's got a wound that needs tending," he informed the EMT, pointing to the gash in her arm as he helped her climb into the ambulance and take her seat at Danny's side. Giving her a small smile, Hawkes patted her on the shoulder before jumping down to the ground. "Look after him for us, okay Linds?" he said to her. "And have someone look at that arm of yours while you're at it."

"Thank you, Sheldon."

"Alright, now get going." Ensuring that everyone was seated, Hawkes slammed the back doors closed and rapped his knuckles twice against the glass, stepping back as the ambulance snaked through the maze of squad cars and other emergency vehicles that had flooded the cramped alley before rounding the corner and disappearing from sight, its sirens blaring loudly. Stella walked up beside him, nudging him with her elbow.

"You think he'll be alright?" she asked.

"It's hard to say," Hawkes said with a weary shrug of his shoulders. "It looks like he's lost a fair amount of blood, but I can't say for sure how serious his wounds are without further examination. He'll probably have a concussion at the very least, and that knife in his side looks pretty nasty, although how deep it went is anybody's guess right now."

"And Lindsay? Will she be okay?"

He grinned at Stella. "She'll need a few stitches, but other than that, I think as long as Danny's alright Lindsay will be fine," he assured. "I don't know if she was even really aware of the cut on her arm." He chuckled slightly and shook his head. "Did you hear what she called him, Stell? She called him 'baby' and 'honey'. What's that all that about? They're not… together, are they?"

Stella smiled knowingly, patting a confused Hawkes on the shoulder. They turned to head back to where Mac was standing watch over the crew of firefighters that were working to put out the blazing truck. Stella paused, bending down to collect Lindsay's jacket from where it had been left on the sidewalk.

"They alright?" Mac asked as the pair approached him.

"Hopefully," Hawkes said as he gazed at the smouldering wreck in front of him. "Jeez. Pretty messed up. We got any idea who that guy was yet?"

"So far, no," Mac sighed. "Whoever he was, he was good. He managed to commit three murders without leaving any trace of himself behind. We can only hope that when the fire department releases the vehicle there's still enough of him left to get a positive ID."

"And when Danny wakes up… well, maybe the guy said something to him, or maybe Danny recognized him," Stella said hopefully.

"Maybe," Mac replied morosely. "Maybe."

"Detective Taylor?" One of the firefighters came jogging up to where Mac was standing with Stella and Hawkes. "You said there were two men in the vehicle when it crashed, right? Someone helped one of them out… but couldn't get back in time to get the other one?"

"Yes, that's right," Mac said, his attention caught by the odd question. "Why?"

"Well… as far as we can tell, there's no one in that truck," the firefighter replied. "Even though the fire was hot as hell, it was a fairly short burn and there would be significant remains behind." He shook his head, running his sooty fingers through his hair. "But there's nothing. No body. No remains."

"What?" Stella gasped. "So…"

"Whoever was in that truck… well, he's gone now."

**

* * *

Eek! *skitters under the bed to hide* **

**I'm really hoping you don't all hate me for ending it like that. But really, you didn't think it was going to be over just like that, did you? Not a chance. More to come!**

**Comments are always welcome, so please feel free to leave a review!**


	13. Out of the Frying Pan

**A/N: Um... wow. Holy Moly, people. What a response to the last chapter! I am so far beyond ecstatic that you were kept on the edge of your seat by all the action. Thank you so very much for all the wonderful and supportive reviews! And... gah! I just realized that this is now my third story that has passed the 100 reviews mark! *does a little dance* Thank you!  
**

**This next chapter picks up right where we left off, following Danny and Lindsay to the hospital… Enjoy!**

**Note: Italics = Flashback. (I know, I know. You already knew that, but I wanted to clarify to avoid confusion.)  
**

**Disclaimer:**** I am not a doctor. I am not a nurse. I do have my basic first aid certificate, but that in no way qualifies me as an expert on all things medical. So there are going to be some mistakes - let's just get that out of the way right now, shall we? Please be kind and don't judge me too harshly if I've mixed up my terminology or something. I'm doing my best here!**

* * *

"How's that feelin' honey?"

Lindsay glanced down at her arm. The doctor had removed the jagged scrap of metal and - five stitches later - her forearm was now tightly wrapped in a sterile bandage thanks to the gentle attentions of Antoinette. The short, round nurse with wild black curls and a kind face smiled as Lindsay tentatively flexed her arm and wiggled her fingers.

"It feels better," she said, returning the nurse's smile. "Thank you."

"Don't you worry about it," Antoinette replied. "Just doin' my job." She tidied up her workspace, tucking the gauze and scissors away in a drawer before turning to Lindsay. "Alright, now you hang tight here another minute and I'll just go get those painkillers the doctor prescribed, okay?"

Lindsay nodded and watched as her caretaker strode purposefully away toward the nurse's station. With a sigh, she leaned back against the thin, papery pillows that seemed a staple of every Emergency Room, glancing around at the hustle and bustle of the busy triage area. Children's sobs were soothed by the worried and slightly frantic voices of their parents and somewhere on the far side of the room Lindsay heard the heart wrenching sound of a family crying as a loved one clung perilously to life.

She closed her eyes and tried to tune out the noise, in desperate need of a quiet moment to gather her thoughts. She let her mind wander back to how she'd gotten here in the first place…

-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-

_She jumped up into the ambulance - Hawkes giving her a few reassuring words before slamming the door behind her - and she shuffled along the narrow gap between Danny's stretcher and the low bench that stretched the length of the interior of the emergency vehicle. She glanced at the attendant as he hovered around Danny, fitting an oxygen mask over his face and starting an IV drip._

"_Can… can I hold his hand?" she asked timidly, unsure of the protocol she was to follow. He smiled at her as he checked Danny's pulse and nodded his head._

"_Yeah. That'd be fine. Might even make him more at ease."_

_Needing no further encouragement, Lindsay reached out and clasped Danny's hand between both of hers. "Do you think he can hear me?"_

_The attendant shrugged his shoulders, bracing himself on the stability bar bolted to the wall as they lurched around a sharp corner. "I don't know, to be honest. But it can't hurt."_

_So she'd begun to talk, not keeping to any topic in particular. She simply needed to fill the void between them with something other than the shrill whine of the siren and the crunch of the asphalt beneath the tires. While she rambled on for what seemed like ages, she kept her gaze fixed on his hand, watching for any little movement, any repeat of the gentle pressure on her fingers she'd felt back in the alley. But there was nothing. So it came as a bit of a shock to her when the attendant nudged her shoulder, catching her attention._

"_Hey… hey, look," he said, nodding up at Danny's face. Lifting her gaze, Lindsay beamed at the pair of blue eyes that were staring back at her._

"_Hey, baby," she said quietly, stretching her hand out to stroke his uninjured cheek. "You had me worried there for a little bit. You alright?"_

_Danny responded by blinking drowsily at her and giving the faintest nod of his head. He reached up and Lindsay realized that he was trying to remove the oxygen mask from his face._

"_Hey, hey! Don't do that!" she gently__ reprimanded__. "Danny, you need that, okay? Just leave it on for now."_

_But Danny, being the stubborn mule that he was, ignored her completely and dragged the mask down so it was perched on his chin. She could see his lips moving and she leaned forward to try and catch what he was saying._

"_Don't… don't go…" He paused to take a breath, wincing and clutching at his side._

"_Shh… shh. I'm not going anywhere," Lindsay soothed, trying to put the mask back over his mouth. But he fixed her with a pointed stare, stilling her hand as he grabbed her wrist and let out an irritated huff. _

"_No, no, no… please, Lindsay… you can't… don't go…"_

"_Baby, I know. I'll be right there with you at the hospital, okay? Don't worry," Lindsay assured him. "I'm not going anywhere.__"_

_Exhausted, Danny sank back against the stretcher and groaned in frustration, grudgingly allowing Lindsay to affix the mask in its proper place. She retook her grasp of his hand and gave him a comforting squeeze, smiling when he tightened his own grip on her fingers, his eyes slowly drooping closed once again._

_The rest of the trip to the hospital was uneventful, Danny dozing while Lindsay watched over him and the paramedic took a quick look at her arm, cleaning the wound as best he could while carefully avoiding dislodging the shrapnel. Soon they screeched to a halt at the ER and Lindsay held onto Danny's hand for as long as possible, not wanting to break her word, having promised him she'd stay by his side. But she was forced to let go when they wheeled him into a Trauma Room for more in-depth medical attention, the swinging doors snapping closed behind the crowd of people that had encircled Danny's stretcher, leaving Lindsay to make due with pacing back and forth in the hall instead. _

_She paced for what seemed like hours, but glancing down at her watch, she realized it had been only seven minutes. Seven minutes! She let out a groan and ran her fingers through her hair before slumping down in one of the hard and uncomfortable chairs lining the pastel coloured hallway to wait. _

_She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up at the unfamiliar face smiling down at her. She took in the woman's appearance. Judging by her brightly coloured scrubs, Lindsay could tell she was a nurse. She looked up at the woman's name tag. Antoinette._

"_Hey, honey. You alright?" Antoinette asked, her voice soft, light and soothing. "You want me to take a look at that arm for you?"_

"_No. I just… I need to stay here," Lindsay muttered agitatedly, reaffirming her grip on the arms of the chair and wincing as she realized that her arm really did hurt. Quite a lot, actually, now that she thought about it. "Well… maybe…"_

_Seeing her hesitation, Antoinette smiled reassuringly. "What's your name, sweetie?"_

"_Detective Monroe… er, Lindsay."_

"_Well, Detective Lindsay Monroe; I'm Antoinette. Now, I think I already know the answer to this question, but is that your fella' in there?" she asked, nodding toward the Trauma Room. Lindsay smiled wearily and nodded her head. _

"_And what's his name?"_

"_Danny."_

"_Danny…?"_

"_Danny Messer."_

"_Well, far be it from me to separate you two lovebirds. How 'bout this, then," Antoinette said, taking Lindsay's good arm and gently helping her to her feet. "I'm gonna take you right over there – you see that bed? That's gonna be your bed, alright? And you can keep an eye on him from there." She began to lead Lindsay across the crowded ER, adroitly side-stepping her colleagues and their charges, surprising Lindsay with her agility for a woman of her proportions. _

_Lindsay followed along in Antoinette's wake, allowing herself to be settled on a narrow and lumpy hospital bed while the nurse bustled around her, inspecting the wound and clicking her tongue when Lindsay let out a hiss of pain._

"_Tsk, tsk," she said. "That's a nasty cut you got there, girl." She drew a small table over to the bed, resting Lindsay's arm across it and making a compress that she draped gently around the wound, being careful not to disturb the rough metal shard. "I'm going to go get a doctor, see if we can't get you fixed up. Get that thing outta your arm and patch you up good and proper. Just you wait; we'll have you better than new in no time!"_

-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-

"Ooh, girl! You got some explainin' to do!"

Her thoughts interrupted, Lindsay opened her eyes to see Antoinette scurrying toward her with a wide smile on her face. "Not only do you come wheelin' into _my _ER with your man, Mr. Messer, but that tall drink of water over there says that he's lookin' for you," she said, grinning at Lindsay.

Confused, Lindsay looked over to where Antoinette was pointing, a small smile spreading across her face as she saw Flack shuffling nervously from foot to foot over by the door. She shifted her gaze back to Antoinette and chuckled. "Yeah. He's with me."

"Well some girls just have all the luck," the nurse teased her as she checked Lindsay's bandage. "Now, here's some painkillers." She handed Lindsay a small paper cup containing two little white pills. "And I have some instructions here for you on how to look after that bandage. I want you back here in three days so we can check the stitches and make sure everything's healing properly. You got that?"

"Got it."

"Good." Antoinette nodded in satisfaction then leaned in to Lindsay to whisper conspiratorially in her ear. "And if you feel like bringing tall, dark and handsome with you... well, I would be one happy camper."

Lindsay giggled lightly. "I'll be sure to ask Detective Flack if he'd like to be my escort."

"Detective, huh?" Antoinette chuckled, eyeing Flack appreciatively over her shoulder. "Well you tell him he can interrogate me any time he wants. Mmm hmm."

She gave Lindsay a little wink, handing her a sheet of paper with her instructions as well as a prescription in case her arm really began to bother her. She told Lindsay to feel free to stay in the bed until Danny was released from Trauma or they needed the bed for a more urgent patient. Then she took her leave and waved Flack over, making Lindsay laugh as she made a show of checking out his backside, rolling her eyes heavenward before moving off to look after her next charge.

"Hey, Monroe," Flack said, striding over to her bed, his gaze flickering down to her arm. "You hangin' in there?"

"By the skin of my teeth," she replied, leaning into him as he pulled her into his side for a hug. "I haven't heard anything about Danny yet."

"They're not done with him in Trauma," he said, grabbing a chair and bringing it to the side of Lindsay's bed. "I heard them talking over at the nurse's station, though. It sounds like he's gonna be alright."

Lindsay heaved a sigh of relief, some of the heaviness that had been weighing her down since she'd watched the Avalanche drive away without her finally beginning to lessen. "Really?" she asked in a small voice.

"Really."

She smiled and settled back on her pillows, getting as comfortable as she could on the lumpy mattress, and feeling slightly light-headed as the painkillers began to take effect. "How'd you find me?"

Flack scoffed. "I'm a detective, Monroe. I detected."

She raised an eyebrow at him and he returned her inquiring look with a grin. "Adam. He was still on the phone with Mac when they were loading you and Danno into the ambulance. He told me where they were taking you. Oh, and I called Danny's parents; they're on their way over now. His mom's pretty freaked out."

"God, Flack," Lindsay groaned, scrubbing her face tiredly with the hand of her good arm. "This is all just such a mess. I was so scared. I'm just so glad it's all over."

"I know, Linds. I know." He reached out and laid a hand on her knee and gave it a gentle squeeze. "From what I hear though, you were a real hero." It was Lindsay's turn to scoff, but Flack pressed on. "I'm serious, Monroe. You did good, kid. Real good. Everyone's really proud of you."

"Well they shouldn't be," Lindsay said flatly and Flack was surprised to see tears welling up in her eyes. "This is all my fault."

"What? Linds, come on…"

"No, Don. It is. It's all my fault. If it hadn't been for me, we never would have gotten into that stupid truck in the first place. We should have just… we could have…" She shook her head, biting her lip and turning her face away from him, swiping angrily at her tears.

Flack sighed, taking her small hand in his and giving it a comforting pat. "Lindsay, I want you to listen to me, okay?" She sniffled miserably and he reached into his pocket, handing her his handkerchief. "Don't worry. It's clean…_ish_."

That got him a smile. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose, crumpling the handkerchief in her hand. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he replied. "Now, get that crap about any of this being your fault out of your head right now, Lindsay. Because it's bullshit. It doesn't matter whose idea it was to go out in the Avalanche, okay? That's totally beside the point. There is only one person to blame for what happened here tonight, and it ain't either you or Danny."

Lindsay nodded, her fingers toying with the edge of Flack's hankie. "I know that, Don. I do. It's just… I can't help thinking that if we hadn't… we just wanted…" She sighed, and Flack could sense that she was wrestling with how much she should tell him about what exactly it was she and Danny had been about to get up to, unaware of how much he'd already determined on his own.

Until a couple of hours ago, Flack had been convinced that after a few rocky months – during which Flack was not afraid to say that Danny had been a real bitch to put up with – Lindsay had returned from Montana refreshed and with a heavy weight off her shoulders. Flack assumed that she and Danny were both just relieved to be able to re-establish their friendship – falling right back into that easy camaraderie the two of them shared. But obviously, he'd been blind to what was going on right in front of his nose. His two friends had found some kind of happiness with one another, and despite his initial shock, he wasn't one to begrudge them whatever pleasure they took from one another's company.

Now, if he could only find some tactful way to convey that to Lindsay; she was chewing thoughtfully on her lip and avoiding Flack's gaze while he floundered to find just the right words to ease her discomfort and broach the seemingly taboo subject.

"I, uh… went to the store," he started awkwardly. Lindsay looked up at him, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"That's great Flack, but I'm not really in the mood to talk about your trip to the grocery store right now."

"No, that's not… I mean I went to the store – to the Walgreen's – where you and Danny…" He paused to clear his throat, staring down at his hands which were clasped tightly together in his lap. He desperately wanted to tell her what he'd seen without actually having to say the words. "I, ahem… I was going over the security footage – trying to see if we could get a good look at the guy that took Danny… but, ah… instead I kind of saw something else…" He broke off, glancing up at Lindsay who was staring back at him with a hint of uneasiness in her eyes. _Screw it,_ he thought. _Tact be damned._ "Um… I think these are yours."

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the small plastic bag he had seen her drop on the floor of the store before she ran out after Danny, setting it on Lindsay's bed. He saw the recognition register on her face and she closed her eyes, biting her lip. An uncomfortable silence hung in the air between them, finally broken when they both spoke at the same time.

"Oh, God. I'm so sorry, Don…"

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to…"

They both paused, sharing nervous smiles.

"You go," Lindsay said.

"Um… it's really none of my business," Flack began. "I just… I want you to know that I'm really happy for you guys. When Danny was telling me about this 'mystery' girl of his -" He shook his head, his smile widening as he remembered Danny's irritatingly jubilant mood only a few short mornings ago, "- I've never seen him like that before, Lindsay. He was just… happy. Really happy."

Lindsay blushed and graced him with a shy smile. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he affirmed. "But I feel I gotta warn you, Monroe. Once you get to know him, he's kind of an asshole."

Lindsay laughed out loud and gave him a shove. "I'm pretty sure he'd say the same about you."

"Probably," he admitted. "Just do me a favour, okay?" Lindsay nodded and he continued. "Look after him, alright? He likes to pretend he's tough-as-nails, but really he's just a big ol' marshmallow when it comes down to it; all soft and mushy on the inside."

"I know," Lindsay replied, the blush on her cheeks deepening.

"Oh, God," Flack moaned. "That's the part you like the best, isn't it?" Lindsay giggled and he shook his head. "You know what? I don't wanna know. No details - nothing. Just leave me out of the loop."

"Hey, you brought it up," she defended herself. "Don't blame me."

"Whatever. You pair of weirdos deserve one another."

Lindsay was about to tell Flack that of the two of them sitting there at that particular moment, she was pretty sure she wasn't the weird one. But her rebuke was cut off by the sound of Flack's phone ringing.

He reached into his pocket, grimacing at the glares the shrill tone was drawing from other patients. Finally retrieving the offending device, he flipped it open.

"It's Mac," he said, getting up and signalling to Lindsay that he was just going to be out in the hall so as not to further disturb her neighbours. She watched him go, mumbling an apology as he brushed past a tall woman in green scrubs and a white lab coat who was making a beeline for Lindsay.

"Lindsay Monroe?"

"Yes?"

"My name is Dr. Halpern. You came in with Detective Messer, is that right?"

"Yes, that's right," Lindsay replied, a hint of anxiety in her voice as she sat up straighter in her bed. "How is he?"

"He's doing surprisingly well, all things considered," the doctor replied, glancing down at the chart in her hand. "Bit of a concussion. There's some bruising on his chest from the seatbelt and he needed a few stitches in his side and on his face, but he's a lucky man, Ms. Monroe. That knife could have done a lot more damage. Fortunately for Mr. Messer, it was a fairly shallow jab and missed all of his vital organs."

Lindsay released the breath she hadn't even been aware she'd been holding, sinking back against her pillows and wiping at the tears of relief that had risen in her eyes. "So… he's going to be okay?"

"We're going to keep him overnight for observation – he had a few nasty blows to the head, and we need to wait for some of the swelling to go down before we can get an accurate image on a CT Scan to be sure there's no greater damage," she explained. "But to answer your question – yes. I think he's going to be just fine."

"Can I see him?"

Dr. Halpern smiled warmly at Lindsay. "Of course you can. But first, I was hoping I could get your help with something, if you don't mind. We've given him a mild sedative and he's resting right now, but when he was awake he kept asking for someone named… uh, Montana? He was quite insistent, if you want to know the truth. I was hoping you might be able to tell me who she is and how we can get in touch with her."

"Yeah, I do." Lindsay blushed, her smile spreading wide across her face. "I'm Montana."

"Well thank the Lord for that," Dr. Halpern replied with a somewhat relieved grin. "We were worried that if we couldn't find this Montana person he'd never be quiet; he was going on and on… starting to drive us all crazy."

"Yeah, he does that," Lindsay giggled. "I guess I shouldn't be too worried then. If he's already annoying everyone, he's got to be feeling better."

Dr. Halpern smiled, and glanced down at her chart, her expression becoming more solemn.

"I should warn you that he's a little confused at the moment. We're not overly worried yet as it's quite common and to be expected after hitting his head like he did," she explained.

"W-what do you mean, _confused_?" Lindsay asked, her voice tinged with concern. "Do you mean he can't… he doesn't remember?"

"Well, yes and no." Dr. Halpern sat down in the chair Flack had recently vacated, clasping her hands on the clipboard that lay across her lap. "It's not that he can't remember _anything_. It's just that he can't remember _everything_. He seems to remember senses more than anything else; pain, fear, the smell of gasoline and smoke. He seems to have moments of clarity, but he doesn't actually remember much about the accident or the specific events that led to it."

"Oh, God," Lindsay breathed, hot tears prickling at the corners of her eyes.

"He's cognisant, though - he knows who he is, what day it is - and his long-term memory appears to be unaffected. But still, some of the things he says are a bit confusing – at least to us they are. You might be able to make more sense of them. We've already solved the _Montana_ mystery thanks to you, but he keeps talking about _Wheel of Fortune_ and Walgreen's… do either of those ring any bells with you?"

Lindsay felt her cheeks burning hot pink and she nodded her head. "Yeah. We were, um, we were talking about _Wheel of Fortune_ just before we left his parents' house. And we stopped at Walgreen's." She swallowed back the sob that threatened to escape her mouth. "That's where we were when he was taken."

"Okay. So that's a fairly recent memory, then. That's good," Dr. Halpern nodded, reaching out to lay a supportive hand on Lindsay's leg and giving her a reassuring smile. "Everything after that is a bit of a muddle though, I'm afraid. Once we've done the CT Scan, I'm going to get a neurologist to look over the images, but I'm fairly confident that everything will come back to him in time. Just be patient; talk to him. Try to jog his memory."

"I'll do my best," Lindsay sighed. She was getting restless now, itching to go see him.

The doctor seemed to sense her impatience and she stood, offering Lindsay her hand to help her down from the bed. "You ready to go see him?"

Lindsay nodded eagerly, swinging her legs over the side and following the doctor out of the ER and down the hall to a smaller, quieter recovery area where they stopped in front of a curtained off area.

"Dr. Halpern?"

"Yes?"

"A friend of ours was with me a few minutes ago… can you please let him know where I am? His name is Don Flack… just ask Antoinette. She knows what he looks like."

"Will do," the doctor replied. She nodded toward the curtain and smiled at Lindsay. "I'll just leave you to him, then. If you need anything, there's a call button beside his bed."

"Thank you."

"You're more than welcome, Ms. Monroe," she replied. "And… I know I'm not your doctor, but after you've seen him you should have someone take you home. You've had a pretty rough time of it yourself as I understand. You need to look after yourself too, or you won't be much help to him."

Lindsay nodded and, satisfied with her response, Dr. Halpern turned and walked away, rounding the corner and disappearing into the controlled chaos of the ER.

Taking a deep breath, Lindsay parted the curtains and stepped into the small enclosure containing Danny's bed. She blinked back tears as she took in his appearance. She had been so scared when she'd seen all the blood after pulling him from the truck. It was everywhere; in his hair, on his face and staining his clothes. She was relieved to see that he didn't look nearly as bad now that he'd been cleaned up. Bandages covered the gashes on his cheek and forehead, and the covers were pulled up over his chest, hiding the dressings she knew would cover his torso.

Being careful not to disturb him, she quietly settled in the chair at his side and reached out tentatively to take his hand in hers, curling her fingers around his. He looked so peaceful and Lindsay was glad to note that his hand felt warmer now, no longer cold and seemingly lifeless. She felt the tight knot in her stomach unravelling slowly as she finally allowed herself to relax. Their wounds would heal. Danny's memories of tonight would eventually come back to him – and even if they didn't, what did it really matter? Whoever the man was that had done this... well, he was gone now. Danny was safe.

A smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she realized that everything was going to be okay.

**

* * *

Oh, Lindsay. I think you may be getting ahead of yourself there… Or maybe not. I don't want to give anything away. **

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter… it was so much fun to write Flack and Lindsay's conversation, and I had a blast writing Antoinette. She's kind of an amalgamation of a few nurses who've really had an impact on me during the few times I've had to spend an extended period of time in a hospital. They all seemed to have that rare and uncanny gift of being able to make you feel right at ease, even when you may be experiencing one of the worst days of your life. They made some very unpleasant times almost bearable by their ability to make me smile in spite of everything else that might have been going on.**

**I would absolutely love to hear what you have to say about this chapter, so please leave a review if you feel so inclined. It would really make my day!**


	14. The Memory Game

**A/N: Hi-diddly-ho, everyone! Yes, I'm back – finally! – with an update for this story. I'm so sorry for keeping you waiting for so long. This chapter has been a bit of a struggle, and I wanted to make sure it jived with the rest of the story before I posted it. I hope it doesn't disappoint.**

**Thank you so much for all of the wonderful reviews for the last chapter! I'm so glad you all had as much of a soft spot for the lovely Antoinette as I did! I can't guarantee she'll make a reappearance in this story, but I promise to do my best! And of course any chance I get to play around with Flack in my stories… well, you all know how much I love to have my fun with him, too!**

**Enough from me, though. Here we go with the next chapter. Enjoy!**

_

* * *

Fucking Danny Messer. Fucking little prick._

He hurt everywhere. Actually, hurt was putting it mildly. He was in excruciating pain. His head felt as if it had been split in two, his back and neck ached, and his arm? He didn't even want to think about his arm.

He could hear sounds – a female voice shouting followed by the creak of metal grinding against metal. Frantic breathing. Grunting. Straining. Someone was moving something heavy. He wanted to open his eyes, but that meant moving… and he didn't want to move.

He could smell something – tangy, almost metallic. Gasoline. He could smell gasoline. And smoke.

"Fuck," he moaned softly. Steeling himself, he peeled open his eyes and stared around him. He was still in the truck but something – or rather someone – was missing. The driver's seat was empty, the door open just wide enough for someone to crawl through.

That bitch cop. It had to be her. She'd been following them, following Messer. She'd followed them here. She'd taken Messer.

Gritting his teeth, he slowly pushed himself up off the dashboard. He had to get out of here. Despite the massive pain throbbing in his head, he wasn't stupid. He knew that gasoline and a smouldering vehicle were a bad combination. If he ever wanted another crack at Messer, he had to move. And he had to do it now.

Cradling his injured arm against his body, he grabbed his gun from the floor where it had fallen during the crash and began to crawl across the seat toward the open door, dropping heavily down onto the slick pavement. He leaned back against the truck, giving himself a moment to get his bearings. He heard the scuff of shoes on the asphalt and looked up, his eyes blazing with self-righteous anger as he watched that woman drag Messer's lifeless body away from the wrecked vehicle.

He took a steadying breath, pushing himself into an upright position. He took one step, then another toward the figures on the road ahead of him. Suddenly his pain seemed a thing of the past. As long as he focused on his rage, on his hatred, then his pain didn't matter. Step after step, closer and closer. His arm outstretched; his finger on the trigger...

Click.

_What the fuck?_

Click… Click… Click. Click. Click.

He pulled the trigger over and over again. But nothing. His gun was jammed.

_Fuck!_

He could hear the sirens getting closer – only a few blocks away now. Panicked, he looked around him. He had no weapon and no time. Tossing his gun off into the shadows, he bolted – running as fast as his aching legs would carry him to the mouth of the alley. He heard the bang of the explosion behind him, hazarding a quick glance over his shoulder at the flaming carnage. And as the caravan of emergency vehicles screeched around the corner, he disappeared into the night, losing himself in the labyrinth of narrow, winding backstreets.

* * *

"Mac, come and take a look at this," Hawkes said, waving his boss over to where he had discovered a small cluster of blood droplets on the ground. "Gravitational drops," he explained as Mac crouched down beside him. "Looks like our guy got himself out of the truck and then stopped right here." He looked up, raising his eyebrows as he realized exactly how close they were to the spot Lindsay had managed to drag Danny after retrieving him from the vehicle. "Why would he do that? Why would he stop?"

"Maybe to finish what he started," Mac suggested, his tone sombre.

"So why didn't he?"

Mac shrugged his shoulders. "Let's walk through this," he said, putting his hands on his knees and pushing himself into a standing position. He walked back toward the burnt-out shell of the Avalanche, Hawkes close on his heels. "Lindsay approaches the truck after the crash. She opens the door to get to Danny and sees the perp on the passenger side – apparently unconscious. She gets Danny out and drags him here." He shuffled backward, imitating a dragging motion. "Now Danny's not exactly a heavy guy, but it still would have taken Lindsay a good 45 seconds to a minute to get him all this way. And it must have been during that time that our guy got out of the truck…"

"Because the next time Lindsay looked up was when it caught fire," Hawkes said, nodding his head in agreement with Mac's timeline. "So he gets himself here -" Hawkes moved back to the blood droplets, "- and waits. For what?"

"For this," Stella answered, striding quickly across the alley toward the two men with a gun wrapped in a plastic evidence bag clutched in her hand. "Found this over there… has blood on it and traces of gasoline." She handed the bag over to Mac who stared down at it, turning it over in his hands as Hawkes glanced at the weapon over his shoulder. "No GSR, but from the video that Flack saw it didn't look like the guy shot Danny – just pistol whipped him pretty good." The three of them cringed at the mental image of their friend and co-worker taking such a beating. "My guess? He was going to finish them off, but then the truck caught fire and… boom!"

Mac shot her a small half-smile. "Isn't that Danny's line?"

"Well he's not here," Stella said, trying to keep her tone light. "I figured somebody should say it for him."

The three of them were quiet for a moment, each of them beginning to contemplate the gravity of the situation for the first time. This wasn't just some random crime scene. And the victim wasn't just some random person. Someone had set out to hurt Danny – one of their own – and it was hitting just a little too close to home for their comfort.

"Mac," Hawkes began, breaking the awkward silence. He had pulled a magnifying lens from his kit and was closely examining the gun Stella had found. "I don't think it was the fire or the explosion that stopped our perp… I think his gun jammed. Look," he held the weapon out for Mac and Stella to see. "See here? The firing pin is bent. Probably happened in the crash."

"Alright," Mac said, nodding his head. "So our perp gets out of the car, comes to this spot to finish the job, but his gun jams on him… he knows we're coming, so where does he go from here?"

"Well, it's a funny thing about dead-end streets, Mac," Stella said, patting him on the arm. "Only one way in… only one way out."

Mac rolled his eyes. "Now I remember why I hired you," he sighed. "You're just so helpful. Thank you, Stella."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes and trying to go through a mental checklist of all that they had yet to do at the scene. It was something he did that kept him grounded, focused on the task at hand. But he was having a hard time of it tonight. Try as he might, he kept seeing Danny's body lying on the pavement, lifeless as his blood seeped onto the asphalt beneath him. And he saw Lindsay's tear-stained face as she clutched desperately at Danny's hand, heedless of her own injury. He'd watched as the paramedics tended to the worst of Danny's wounds and loaded him into the ambulance, Lindsay quickly jumping in behind him. He'd kept his distance from them at the time – not because he didn't care. Of course he cared; how could he not? But because he knew he needed to stay impartial. Logical. Detached. But it was getting harder and harder to remain so stoic when faced with the realities of what his two team members had been through. He opened his eyes when he felt Stella's hand on his shoulder.

"Have you talked to Flack?" she asked softly. "Last I heard he was on his way to the hospital. Maybe you should call him; get an update on Danny and Lindsay. See how they're doing." She gave his shoulder a supportive squeeze. "You know you want to, Mac. You'll feel better once you know, then you can concentrate on nailing the bastard that did this."

"Thanks, Stella," Mac said, giving her a grateful smile. "You know, sometimes you actually are pretty helpful."

"Hey, what are friends for?" she asked with a smile. But her expression quickly turned more serious. "Besides… someone's got to tell them that this isn't over. He's still out there somewhere."

"Not for long if I have anything to say about it," Mac replied, taking out his phone. "We've got uni's sweeping the area, moving outward from the crash site. He's pretty badly injured – he can't have got far."

"Have you seen those streets out there, Mac?" Stella asked. "It's a total maze of little backstreets, and from what we saw of the neighbourhood there's no shortage of abandoned buildings. There must be a million places to hide… and he's got the edge on us. From the path we saw him take on the Avalanche's Lo-Jack, he knows this area pretty well. There's no guarantee that we'll ever find him if he doesn't want to be found."

"We'll find him, Stella," Mac said with far more certainty than he felt. "We have to. Because I don't think he's done yet."

* * *

Lindsay hadn't even realized she'd fallen asleep. But she must have, because she found herself sitting in the chair by Danny's bed, slumped forward with her head resting on the mattress at his side, gentle fingers sifting through her hair. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, wincing slightly at the lingering ache in her arm. She blinked and a wide smile split her face as she saw Danny was awake. He returned her smile with a lopsided one of his own, the corner of his lips on the uninjured side of his face twitching upward as he reached out and took her hand in his.

"Hey, pretty girl," he said, rubbing his thumb against the back of her hand. "Have a nice nap?"

"Sorry. I didn't mean to fall asleep," she said. "They gave me some painkillers in the ER. I guess they made me kind of drowsy."

Danny's face fell and he glanced worriedly at her bandaged arm. "You okay?"

"I'm fine, Danny. Don't worry about me," she assured him, brushing off his concern. "What about you? How do you feel?"

"Like I was run over by a tank," Danny said with a rueful chuckle. "They tell me I was in a car accident."

"Something like that," Lindsay replied. She reached up and ran her fingers gently along the bandage that covered his cheek. "You don't remember what happened?"

"Not really," he sighed. "I remember being at my parents' place and getting into the truck with you…" He trailed off blushing lightly and turning his gaze to their joined hands. "I remember stopping outside the drugstore. After that… it's all kind of a blur. Somebody hit me and I remember driving, but…" He shrugged his shoulders, wincing at the pain that radiated through his body at the movement. Lindsay watched his face closely, giving his hand a squeeze as she saw a trace of wetness forming on his lashes. He took a shaky breath and cleared his throat, blinking back his tears. "I woke up here and I didn't know what had happened or where you were… I was so worried about you. I don't… I don't know why. I was just… and nobody knew where you were…"

"Shh… shh…" Lindsay soothed, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "It's okay, Danny. I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere."

"But you're hurt!" Danny protested, his anxiety rising once again. "How did… what happened? Who hurt you?"

"Nobody hurt me, Danny," Lindsay explained gently. "The Avalanche exploded and I got caught by a piece of shrapnel. It's no big deal. Just a few stitches. I'm fine, I promise."

"The Avalanche exploded? Jesus," Danny muttered. Sinking back against his pillows, he let out a frustrated sigh. "I just wish I could remember," he groaned.

"It'll come back to you," Lindsay said. "The doctor said it might help to talk about it… so why don't we start with what you do remember and go from there? Maybe that will help."

"I guess," Danny said uncertainly.

"Okay, so you remember stopping at Walgreen's," Lindsay began. "Do you remember why we stopped?" Danny grinned at her, nodding his head. "Wipe that smirk off your face, Messer. And get your mind out of the gutter," she teased. "So I went in, and when I was finished at the checkout, I looked out the window and saw a man sitting in the truck with you. I think he must have hit you because your face was bleeding here," she said, indicating the bandage on his cheek. "Do you remember that?"

Danny closed his eyes, forcing his mind back to that moment. He'd been deliriously happy; turned on beyond belief thanks to Lindsay's wandering hands… and then nothing. A big, fat blank. He was about to open his eyes when he suddenly felt fear… well, the memory of fear. Someone had gotten into the car, but it wasn't who he had expected. It wasn't Lindsay.

"He knew my name," Danny whispered. "He told me to drive."

"Did he say where?" Lindsay asked. "Did you get a look at him? Was he familiar? Did he say what he wanted?"

"I don't know!" Danny wailed. "I don't know! I don't know!" He raised his hands, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes and letting out a groan of frustration. "Too many questions… I can't think straight!"

"Okay, okay," Lindsay soothed, placing her hand on his leg and gently rubbing his thigh. "I'm sorry. I know this is hard, Danny. I just got carried away." She smiled apologetically when he lowered his hands and began idly picking at a loose thread on the blanket that covered his lap. "One question at a time, alright? I promise."

Danny nodded his head. "Fine."

"Just tell me if it gets too much for you and we'll stop, okay?"

Again, he nodded.

"So, he got in the car. He knew your name and he told you to drive," Lindsay summarized. "Did he threaten you?"

"I don't know. Maybe. I… I tried to talk to him," Danny whispered. "I think I told him to stay cool. That nobody had to get hurt. And that's when… that's when he hit me, with his gun I think."

"You're doing so good, Danny," Lindsay praised. "So good, baby. Do you remember what happened next?"

In his head, Danny could hear the man's voice shouting at him but the pain was so blinding he was having trouble piecing together what he was saying, his words a garbled mess in Danny's memory.

He shook his head morosely. "I don't know," he sighed. "I started to drive, I guess. I… I think he talked a lot, but I was so focused on getting away that I just… I don't know."

"Well, what about the crash?" Lindsay asked. "What do you remember about that?"

Danny stared off into space for a while, clearly deep in thought. "I… I crashed the truck, didn't I?" he asked.

Lindsay nodded her head. "Looks that way," she said. "I pulled you out of the driver's seat. Do you remember why you crashed?"

Gnawing on his lip, Danny hung his head, again picking at the threads of his blanket. "I was scared, Lindsay," he said, his voice so low that Lindsay had to strain to hear him. "He… I don't know, he must have threatened me… but I can't… Fuck! I hate feeling so goddamn useless! Why can't I remember?"

He scrunched up his face with the effort of trying to dredge through his jumbled memories. Lindsay could tell he was quickly getting frustrated by the whole process, and she thought it best to wrap it up. There would be more time for this later when he was feeling up to it, after the stress and shock of everything had begun to wear off.

"Hey, it's alright, Danny. We don't have to do this right now," she said, clasping his hand between both of hers. "Let's take a break, okay? There's no rush."

"I'm sorry, Linds," Danny said. "I want to remember, but it's just so hard. I feel like I'm trying to put a million-piece puzzle together, but I don't have the picture on the box to compare it to."

Lindsay smiled at him, leaning in to capture his lips in a sweet and gentle kiss. "You'll get there, Danny. I promise you will. And I'll be there to help you find a place for each and every piece of that puzzle."

Danny returned her smile, tugging on her arm and drawing her back toward him. He slid his fingers up into her hair, massaging the back of her head as their lips met for another kiss.

"Danny… mmph… stop," Lindsay mumbled against his lips, trying to pull away. "I don't want to hurt you."

"What? You never heard of kissing it better?" Danny replied, brushing his lips tantalizingly against hers. "Besides, my lips are one of the few places on me that doesn't hurt right now, so stop talking and gimme another kiss."

"You think because you're hurt and sitting in a hospital bed that I'm gonna take pity on you?" Lindsay chuckled. "That you can just boss me around like that?"

Danny grinned at her and she felt her resolve slipping as she leaned into him, losing herself for a few moments in the taste of his mouth and the feeling of his fingers as they tangled in her hair. They were both so caught up in one another that they didn't realize that they had gained an audience until someone cleared their throat from the foot of Danny's bed.

"Ahem."

Sharing slightly guilty smiles, Danny and Lindsay broke apart to see Maria and Joe Messer staring back at them with raised eyebrows.

"Hi, Ma," Danny said with an air of nonchalance despite the fact that he'd just been caught making out with a woman who, only a few short hours ago, he'd introduced to his parents as nothing more than a friend and co-worker. "Hi, Dad. Um… you remember Lindsay."

Lindsay gave Danny's parents a shy wave. "Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Messer."

Maria shook her head, giving the pair of them a look that clearly said 'We'll-talk-about-this-later'. She moved up the other side of Danny's bed, reaching out her hand and gently stroking his hair, being mindful of his bandages. "My baby boy," she whispered, wiping at the tears that had sprung to her eyes. "I was so worried, _caro mio_. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Ma," Danny assured her.

"You don't look fine, son," Joe Messer informed him. "Frankly, you look like shit. Had your poor mother and me scared out of our minds. All Don could tell us was that there had been a car accident. He said you were car-jacked?"

Danny nodded his head. "Yeah. Something like that, I guess."

Lindsay placed her hand on Danny's shoulder, giving him a gentle squeeze before getting to her feet.

"Where are you going?" Danny asked.

Lindsay smiled at him. "I'm just going to give you some time with your parents, Dan," she assured him. "And I'm gonna track down Flack – last I saw him, he was on the phone with Mac. I won't be long, okay? I'll be right outside."

"You're staying though, right?" he asked. "You're not going home? I don't want you to go home."

"I'll be right outside. I'm not going anywhere."

She leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to his upturned face before she pulled the curtain aside and moved out into the hallway leaving Danny under the watchful care of his parents. She pulled the curtain back into place, giving the three of them some privacy before she stretched, arching her back and sighing as her spine cracked and popped after having spent so long sitting. She smiled as she saw Flack making his way down the corridor toward her, snapping his phone shut and stowing it in his pocket.

"Hey, Monroe," he said. "How's Sleeping Beauty doing in there?" he gestured to the curtain behind her.

"I heard that," Danny called out from his bed and Flack grinned.

"Guy's got perfect hearing when you call him names, but just try asking him for money and suddenly he's deaf as a doorknob," Flack quipped.

"Prick," came Danny's disembodied response from behind the curtain, followed by a sharp reprimand of "Daniel! Language!" from his mother.

Flack chuckled, shaking his head. "He seems to be feeling better," he observed and Lindsay nodded her agreement.

"Seems like it," she agreed. "So, what did Mac have to say? Everything alright?"

The smile slipped from Flack's face and he pressed his lips together, flicking his gaze to the closed curtain before taking Lindsay by the elbow and leading her a short distance down the hall where their conversation would not be overheard by the Messers.

"When you pulled Danny out of the truck," he began, "How'd the other guy look to you?"

"What do you mean?" Lindsay asked. "He looked… I don't know. He looked hurt. Damaged. His head was bleeding and I think maybe his arm might have been broken from the way it was bent. I was kind of focused on getting to Danny… I didn't really pay too much attention to him. Why?"

Flack took a deep breath and blew out his cheeks, casting his eyes to the floor and scuffing his feet against the linoleum. "He's gone, Linds."

"Well I figured as much," Lindsay said, confused by Flack's demeanor. "I mean, the truck caught on fire… and the explosion. No one could survive that."

Grimacing at her lack of understanding, Flack shook his head. "No, Linds. I mean he's _gone_ gone," he corrected. "As in… he was in the car… and now he's not. No body. No remains. Nothing. Just… poof. Gone."

Lindsay's eyes went wide with horror and her heart began to beat hard and fast in her chest. "No. No, no, no. That can't be right," she muttered, anxiously wringing her hands and beginning to pace back and forth in front of Flack. "No, I saw him. I saw him. He was in the truck. He couldn't have…" She shook her head, turning to Flack, imploring him to tell her it was all some cruel prank. "But I saw him."

"I know you did, Linds," he said. "And I don't know what to tell you. Somehow he got out. Mac said they found a blood trail leading from the truck. He got away down the alley and they lost him in the backstreets."

"Oh my God," Lindsay whispered. "Oh my God." Her face crumpled and she raised shaking hands to swipe at her eyes. "I thought it was over! I thought he was safe!"

"I know, kiddo," Flack said, reaching out and pulling Lindsay into a tight, comforting hug. "We all did, Linds."

She buried her face in Flack's chest and he held her as she sobbed quietly, overcome with the knowledge that the ordeal she'd thought they'd put behind them was nowhere near finished yet. "Oh, God!" she exclaimed, pulling back and looking up at Flack, her red-rimmed eyes full of fear. "Danny! He… he doesn't know! He's still out there, Don! He's not safe!"

"Shh… calm down, Linds," Flack soothed. "I already talked to Danny's doctor, explained the situation to her. They're moving him to a private room in another part of the hospital; the Maternity Ward, actually. My idea," he smirked with a hint of jocular pride in his voice. "No one in their right mind would think to look for him there. We're putting him under an assumed name and I'm posting an armed guard outside his door 24/7 until this guy is caught. I'm not taking any chances of him getting ambushed by this fucker again, alright? I promise you, right here and now, that we'll keep him safe."

"Do you think we should tell him?" Lindsay asked.

"I don't know," Flack said shaking his head. "I mean… on the one hand he's already a little overwhelmed by everything, so telling him might not be the best idea. But on the other hand… well, he has a right to know. What do you think?"

Lindsay thought hard, weighing the decision carefully in her mind. Then she looked up at Flack. "If it were me, I'd want to know."

"Alright. Then we'll tell him," Flack nodded, leading Lindsay back down the hall.

* * *

Danny hadn't taken the news well. To put it mildly, he'd freaked out. He suddenly became extremely anxious and agitated and Lindsay was worried that his doctor might have to sedate him, he was working himself into such a state.

"Danny… come on. Calm down," she tried to soothe him, taking his hand in hers. "It's okay. You're going to be fine. Don's got it all arranged – you'll be in your own room, you'll have a guard at the door. No one is going to hurt you."

Danny closed his eyes, concentrating hard. Images flashed through his mind. The truck. A man's voice hissing menacingly in his ear. He saw Lindsay's face staring back at him from inside the drugstore, her face contorted in terror. Her. He had to protect _her_. Suddenly the man's words, previously so garbled and confusing, rang clearly in his mind.

"I swear to God I'll gut your little girlfriend just like I did to that Vanzella bitch."

"Excuse me?"

Danny opened his eyes to see the four faces of Flack, Lindsay and his parents staring back at him in confusion.

"That's what he said to me… in the truck. You were still in the store and…" Danny swallowed hard, fighting back the lump that had formed in his throat. "He didn't threaten me, Linds. He threatened you. I had to get out of there. I had to keep him away from you."

"How would he know…?" Lindsay asked, shaking her head. "Danny? What else do you remember?"

"Come on, Danno," Flack encouraged. "I know this is hard, but I need you to think. How did he know about Lindsay?"

"He asked me who she was," Danny said, his voice a low monotone as he put all his effort and energy into jogging his foggy memory. "I said she was just a friend and he… he laughed at me. Said he saw us at my folks' place – outside. He saw us kissing."

"Oh my God," Lindsay gasped. "He followed us? He must have been waiting outside the whole time we were there! Danny… how long? How long was he following you?"

"I don't know," Danny said miserably. "I…" He paused as another memory flashed into his head. They were stopped in the alley. He could see the large brick wall in front of him. The man was taunting him. Teasing him. Trying to rile him up.

_I guess I'll just have to satisfy myself with that sweet little girlie of yours… Thanks to you, I know where she lives._

"At least since last night," Danny replied, opening his eyes and looking up at Lindsay. "I'm so sorry, Lindsay. I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I didn't mean to drag you into this."

"Since last night?" Joe Messer asked. "What happened last night? Where did you go last night?"

A hard knot had formed in the pit of Lindsay's stomach. If Danny was trying to tell her what she thought he was trying to tell her, then that meant…

"He knows where I live."

"I'm so sorry, Lindsay. I'm so sorry," Danny chanted over and over. "I didn't know. I didn't mean for you to get hurt. I'm so sorry."

"Shh, Danny. It's okay," Lindsay said. "Don't be sorry, baby. It's not your fault." She looked up at Flack. "What do we do now?"

"Well, I know one thing for sure," Flack said. "You're not going home. Not by yourself, at least." He pulled his phone from his pocket. "I'm gonna call Mac, bring him up to speed. We'll go from there."

Lindsay watched him flip aside the curtains and disappear down the hall, his phone pressed tightly to his ear. Maria and Joe followed soon after, telling Danny that they were going to call his grandmother and brother, both of whom were deeply worried about him.

Turning back to Danny, Lindsay perched on the edge of his bed, still holding his hands in hers. "You tried to tell me in the ambulance, didn't you?" she asked softly. Danny stared back at her, nodding his head slightly. She sighed, shaking her head. "And the truck? Do you remember why you crashed the Avalanche?"

Danny lowered his head, averting his eyes to avoid hers. "I didn't have anything to fight back with, Linds," he whispered, his voice shaking slightly as his memories came flooding back to him. "He was going to kill me and then he was going to come for you." He raised a hand and swiped angrily at his eyes. "I guess I figured… I mean, I couldn't let that happen. I had to do something, so I just… I stepped on the gas as hard as I could just hoping that I could get the truck going fast enough…" He shook his head. "But I fucked up. I couldn't even do that right. And now he's still out there."

He heard sniffling and he looked up to see Lindsay staring back at him with tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Linds?"

"I have never been so glad in my whole life that you fucked up," Lindsay sobbed, throwing herself at him and gripping him in a tight hug, heedless of his grunts of discomfort. "You are such an idiot," she whispered in his ear. "Such a fucking idiot."

"I know," Danny agreed, burying his face in her hair. "But I couldn't let him hurt you."

"Thank you," she said, pulling back and carefully holding his face in her hands. "Nobody has ever… I've never had anybody… why would you do that for me?"

Danny shrugged his shoulders. "Because I love you," he said simply.

Lindsay's bottom lip began to tremble and the hard knot in her stomach started to slowly unravel, a gentle warmth beginning to surge through her body at his words. "I love you too, Danny," she said. "But I swear to God, if you ever do anything to scare me like that again, I will kill you myself. Do you have any idea how much I would have missed you? Or how important you are to me?"

He smiled at her. "I'm starting to get the general idea," he said, pulling her toward him. Lindsay tucked herself onto the bed beside him and their lips met in an urgent kiss, both of them needing some physical reassurance of their feelings, and the comfort of the other's touch.

**

* * *

**

**I know, I know. I'm a total bitch for ending it there... but please, just trust me, okay? Have I ever let you down before?**

**So, to kind of pick up on my Author's Note from the top of the story… this chapter was really a bastard to write. I struggled a lot with the pacing – it seemed to keep dragging in the original drafts, and I just wasn't at all happy with it. Things were taking too long, and I was getting bogged down by things that ended up not being all that important anyway. **

**I had the general idea of where I wanted to go with it, but as anyone out there who's ever written anything – be it fiction, an essay, a thesis – sometimes even your best ideas just don't translate from your head to your computer screen. And that's where I found myself for a long time. Kind of stuck in a holding pattern, not quite knowing how to proceed as I had kind of written myself into a corner.**

**That being said, I decided to scrap a lot of what I'd written – always a difficult choice to make, because (hopefully this doesn't sound incredibly egotistical) some of it was pretty good. But for the purposes of the story, it just didn't fit, so it got the boot. *sigh***

**Please let me know what you thought of this one. Pretty, pretty please? With Danny on top?**

**Did you love it? Hate it? Did it leave you feeling kind of "meh" about it? (God, I really hope it's not the last two…) Let me know!**

***rhymes***


	15. What Was and What Could Have Been

**A/N: Happy Valentine's Day, everybody! In lieu of sending you all a little heart-shaped card, I decided to post this update for Something Wicked instead… I didn't think guys would mind ;)**

**Gah! Thank you all so much for the amazing reviews of the last chapter! I was just soooo overjoyed at the supportive words you guys sent my way. Thank you, thank you, thank you! Now, this next chapter is a bit of a long one (points to the word count - if this isn't my longest update ever, it's a close second) but I hope you don't mind too much. There was a lot of information I needed to get in, and I tried to do it in a way that made sense, but that also fit with the tone and feel of the story.**

**I'll offer the usual disclaimer that I have no idea what I'm talking about when it comes to the US legal system, so any mistakes are my own. **

**So sit back, get comfy, and (hopefully!) enjoy!**

* * *

"Alright, Adam. Thanks. I got it," Mac said into his phone as he jogged up the pathway leading to the hospital's main entrance. "I'm heading into the hospital right now, so I gotta let you go. We'll set up a link to the lab on Stella's laptop when I get inside and go over everything with the team."

"Sounds good, Mac," Adam replied. "And hey… say hi to Danny for me. And Lindsay too. Tell them I'm glad they're okay."

Mac smiled. "I will. And Adam?"

"Yeah, Mac?"

"Good job."

Mac smiled as Adam blustered at the compliment, trying to make light of all the hard work he'd done. "Oh, well… it wasn't… I didn't… um…"

"I'll talk to you inside, Adam."

"Um… yeah. Okay. Bye Mac."

Snapping his phone shut, Mac nodded at Flack who was waiting just inside the hospital doors.

"How're they doing?" he asked.

"Better, I think," Flack replied. "Lindsay was pretty shook up when I first got here, but she's calmed down. And Danny… well, he's not looking so pretty right now, but things are starting to come back to him. He's remembering bits and pieces. Doc says we just gotta keep him talking."

Mac breathed a sigh of relief. "Good."

"How about on your end?" Flack asked as they rode the elevator up to the floor that housed the Maternity Ward where Danny had been moved once the team found out that his attacker was still on the loose. "We got anything more about this whack job?"

Mac nodded, holding up his phone. "Just finished talking to Adam. We might have a lead on this guy, but I want to go over it with everyone," he said. "Are Stella and Hawkes already here?"

"Yeah. Got here about fifteen minutes ago. They're in Danny's room. Last I saw him, he was sleeping."

"Well, we'll have to wake him up. We've got lots to talk about."

* * *

Stella had arrived at the hospital a few minutes earlier with Hawkes. They'd gotten Flack's message letting them know that Danny had been moved and followed his directions to his new room. They flashed their badges at the uniformed guards outside his door and he checked their credentials before letting them in.

Stella knew the gist of what had happened that night – piecing things together from what Lindsay had told her in the alley and from the information Mac relayed back to her from Flack. But even so, she wasn't prepared for what she saw when she peered through the doorway.

A band of gauze was wrapped tightly around Danny's head and a bandage covered his right cheek, which was swollen and she could see ugly purple bruising emerging from under the edges of the dressing. His right eye was puffy and it looked like he would have quite the shiner to show for his ordeal. His arms were covered in bruises and scratches and she could see a blotchy welt that began on his collar bone and disappeared beneath the neck of his hospital gown from where the seatbelt had caught him when he lurched forward in the truck after the impact of the crash.

Stella and Hawkes tiptoed quietly into the room, smiling at Lindsay who was perched on the edge of Danny's bed, one hand clasped tightly around his while the other gently stroked the hair jutting up from under his bandages while he slept.

"Hey, Linds," Stella whispered, walking up and putting an arm around Lindsay's shoulders. "How're you doing? How's the arm?"

"It's fine, Stella. Thanks," Lindsay replied. "A few stitches and I'm good as new."

"And how's our boy holding up?" Hawkes asked, peering down at Danny and assessing his injuries with a well-trained eye. "He looks a little better than when we saw him last."

"He's doing alright," Lindsay said, giving Hawkes a small smile. "His doctor says she thinks he's going to be fine. He was a little groggy at first; a little out of it. But things are starting to come back to him now. He remembers most of what happened tonight."

Stella pulled up a chair beside Danny's bed and sat down. "We saw his parents out in the hall when we were coming in. Flack's got a uniform assigned to keep an eye on them as a precaution - just in case," she said. "They were just heading to a hotel a few blocks away for the night. This must be hard on them. It's like déjà vu, after what happened to Louie last year."

Stella saw Lindsay frown and her eyes fill up with tears. "Hey! Hey, Lindsay. What's the matter?"

"I just talked about it with his mom earlier tonight," Lindsay sniffled, shaking her head. "She said she worried about him, especially after everything with Louie. And I said… I said she shouldn't worry because we'd always be there to have his back. And then this happens?" Her face crumpled and she dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. "God… she's going to hate me."

"Oh, Linds," Stella soothed, reaching out and giving Lindsay's knee a sympathetic pat. "I don't think you have anything to worry about. I mean, if anyone had Danny's back tonight it was you. What you did was so brave, Lindsay. Putting your life on the line like that?" Stella glanced over and shared a smile with Hawkes. "She's not going to hate you. She's going to realize how lucky Danny is to have someone in his life that cares about him enough to do something like that."

"You think so?" Lindsay asked, her uncertainty clear in her voice. "I don't know. I'm not very good with mothers."

"Well, seeing as she was out there singing your praises to us…" Hawkes began, smiling at Lindsay and giving her a little wink. "Between you, me and the lamppost, I think you made a pretty good impression on the in-laws."

Lindsay's head snapped up and she stared wide-eyed back at Hawkes. "W-what?" she stammered, her mouth gaping open slightly. "I… I don't know what you mean. Danny and I… we're not…"

"Lindsay? It's okay," Stella assured her. "We won't say anything to anyone if you don't want us to. We just… we wanted you to know that we're happy for you. Both of you."

"Yeah. And it's about damn time, too," Hawkes chuckled, earning a warning glare from Stella. "What? Your words, Stella. Not mine."

Stella closed her eyes and sighed, muttering a Grecian curse under her breath at Sheldon Hawkes for repeating what she'd said in the truck on the way to the hospital. Opening her eyes, she smiled at Lindsay who was blushing profusely now that her secret had been revealed.

"How did you guys find out?" she asked. "Did Flack…?"

"Don't blame Flack. We figured it out on our own," Hawkes informed her. "Give us a little credit, Lindsay. We are detectives, after all. Paid to be observant and all that."

"Kind of gave myself away back at the scene, huh?" Lindsay asked with a smile, and Hawkes nodded his assent. "I was just so worried about him that I guess I wasn't thinking about what I was saying. I just wanted him to wake up."

Any comment Hawkes or Stella was going to make was cut off by a sharp rap to the door. The three of them turned to see Mac and Flack enter the room.

"Hey, Mac," Lindsay said.

"Lindsay," he said, quickly crossing the room and pulling her into a tight hug. "I'm so glad you're alright." He stepped back, glancing down at Danny's sleeping form before looking back up at her and smiling. "You did a very brave thing tonight," he said. "Very stupid, but very brave. I'm so proud of you."

Lindsay blushed, lowering her eyes to the floor and fidgeting with the frayed edge of the bandage on her arm. "It was nothing," she demurred quietly.

"Hey," Mac said, reaching out and lifting her chin with his fingers. "It wasn't nothing, Lindsay. What you did took a lot of guts. Am I happy that you put yourself on the line like that?" he asked, shaking his head. "No. I'm not. But we would be having a very different conversation right now if you hadn't. We would have all lost a friend and a colleague tonight. And I think I speak for everyone here when I say that we're all very grateful that you took that risk."

"I'm sure any one of us would have done the same thing in my situation," Lindsay replied. "Please… I just don't want to make a big deal out of it."

"Alright… then how about a change of subject?" Mac asked, and Lindsay gratefully nodded her head. "Stella, you brought your laptop?"

"Sure did, Mac," Stella replied, reaching down for the black padded computer case she'd set on the floor by her chair when she'd come into the room.

"Great. I've got Adam waiting for us to establish a link with him. He's got some new information that I want us all to go over…" He trailed off, glancing over at the bed. "And unfortunately that includes Danny. I'm sorry, but he needs to be awake for this."

Glancing around the room, Lindsay realized that everyone was deferring the task to her. Mac was helping Stella get the connection up and running, while Flack and Hawkes had edged away from the bed, both of them deep in discussion about some aspect of the case. With a sigh, Lindsay shuffled a little closer to Danny, leaning down and giving his shoulder a gentle shake while she spoke softly in his ear.

"Come on Danny. You need to wake up."

"Mmph," he grunted, shifting slightly on the mattress, scrunching up his face and wincing at the pain his actions caused.

"I'm sorry, baby," she whispered. "But I need you to get up."

A small smile formed on the corner of his lips. "No… you need to come back to bed, Montana," he mumbled sleepily, his eyes still firmly closed.

Lindsay glanced over at Mac, who appeared not to have heard Danny's comment. Then she glared over her shoulder at Flack who had attempted – unsuccessfully – to disguise his snicker as a cough. She narrowed her eyes at him before turning back to Danny.

"Come on, sleepyhead. Everybody's here and we need to talk to you."

Danny opened his eyes and stared blearily up at Lindsay before glancing quickly around the room. Seeing that they were not, in fact, alone he blushed slightly and grinned sheepishly up at her.

"I didn't just say that out loud, did I?" he asked quietly.

Lindsay nodded her head and smiled. "Afraid so," she said.

"Shit. Sorry." He groaned as he shifted his weight on the bed. "Can you help me sit up a bit?" he asked. "There's a button on that remote thing on the table."

Lindsay grabbed the small remote, pressing the button to raise the head of the bed slightly and helping Danny to adjust his pillows so he was somewhat comfortable.

"Better?" she asked.

"Yeah. Thanks."

"Danny… nice of you to join us," Mac said, giving Danny's shoulder a supportive squeeze before he set Stella's laptop down on a small side table, wheeling it to the foot of the bed so that everyone could see the screen. "You had us all pretty worried tonight."

"Yeah. I know," Danny lamented. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," Mac assured him. "I'm just happy that Lindsay found you when she did."

"You and me both, Boss," Danny said, reaching out for Lindsay's hand. She hesitated momentarily, wary of the watchful eyes of her teammates. But seeing Danny's face fall slightly at her reticence, she instantly curled her fingers around his with a reassuring smile and a gentle squeeze.

If anyone noticed the silent exchange between the two, no one made any mention of it. Instead, Mac drew their attention to the computer, tapping some of the keys and standing back as Adam Ross's face appeared on the screen.

"Adam... can you hear me?" Mac asked.

"Loud and clear, Mac," Adam replied. "Hey guys." He waved at the assembled group before getting down to business.

"Alright, Adam. Let's start from the top," Mac said. "Tell us what you've got."

"Uh… okay," Adam said, shuffling through the papers on his desk and grabbing the small notebook in which he'd taken notes. "Um… so, first I'll start with our John Doe. Sid called me a few hours ago and said he'd gotten a match on his dental record search. Came back to a guy named Salvatore Trombino."

"Trombino?" Danny asked, his brow furrowed as the name bounced around in his mind like a pinball, rattling amongst the disarray of his semi-muddled memories.

"Does that name mean something to you, Danny?" Flack asked.

"Yeah. Yeah, he lived in my neighbourhood," Danny said, closing his eyes and trying to clear his thoughts so he could concentrate on the name. Sal Trombino. "But that's not it… it's something more recent." He drew in a quick breath and looked up with wide eyes as he remembered. "I-In the truck… the guy - he talked about Sal. And about Tommy and me. He said… he said the three of us ruined his life. But I…" He shook his head despondently. "I don't know what he meant. I haven't seen Tommy in years. And as for Sal… I never really knew the guy."

"Adam? Anything?" Mac inquired.

"Uh… well, I ran Trombino's name along with the others through the database searching for connections to past cases," Adam said. "The others… they didn't pop up anywhere. But I got a hit on Trombino."

"What searches?" Danny asked. "Whose names?"

"Uh…" Adam kept his eyes glued to his notebook, refusing to look up and meet Danny's gaze over the video connection. "Um…"

"Lindsay thought it would be a good idea to run the names of Tommy Vanzella and the other kids in that photo she found in your apartment," Mac explained.

"Tommy and the other kids?" Danny clarified, glancing at Lindsay. "Including me?"

"Well, I just thought…" Lindsay began, suddenly very conscious of the fact that she had never actually gotten the chance to talk to Danny about the search and that she was now in the uncomfortable position of having to explain it to him while their teammates sat by and watched. This was not how she had wanted to have this conversation and she cursed herself for having given in to Danny's persuasive advances earlier in the evening. Thankfully, Flack – seeing that she was at a loss as to an explanation – came to her rescue.

"After she talked with Paul Cugini and Gus Del Vecchio, she made the connection that the rat might be more symbolic than just an outright intimidation tactic," Flack said, and Lindsay flashed him a grateful smile. "She thought that maybe you and the other boys had seen something you shouldn't have and well… maybe you told someone."

"And when Sid IDed our John Doe, we added Trombino's name to the list, looking through old cases to see if any one of you came up as a witness to a past crime."

"You talked to Paulie and Gus?" Danny asked. "When? Where?"

"In the afternoon," Lindsay said. "That's actually why I was in your neighbourhood today. They asked me to meet them at a bar they go to called The Rusty Anchor."

"What?" Danny shouted. "Are you fucking kidding me? You went to The Rusty Anchor? By _yourself_?" He shook his head in disbelief. "Are you insane? Do you have any idea what kind of stuff goes down in that place? I mean, I won't even go there on my own; it's too dangerous, Lindsay!"

"It was fine, Danny," Lindsay assured him, her stomach fluttering at his overt display of protectiveness. "I'm fine. Nothing happened."

"Jesus Christ," he muttered, his grip on her hand tightening. "Remind me to kick the shit out of Paulie and Gus the next time I see them. They had no business asking you to go to a place like that."

"Ahem," Mac cleared his throat, reminding the pair of them that they were not alone. "Anyway, as Adam said, his search didn't turn anything up on the four of you… but he did find something on Salvatore Trombino. Adam?"

"Uh… yeah. So, Trombino's name came up on an old case from October 1987," Adam said, tapping on his keyboard. A window popped up on the screen, outlining the details of the case. "He was the sole witness in the case against a young man by the name of Eric Delorsio. Delorsio was accused of raping and brutally murdering seven teenage girls. According to the lead detective's notes, Trombino was out walking his dog one night and he heard sounds coming from the vacant wooded lot next to his house. It was private property and he saw that the gate was open so he called the cops. They went into the woods to check it out and found Delorsio in the act of burying his latest victim; a 16 year old by the name of Carla Pisatto."

Hawkes leaned forward, squinting as he read the text on the screen. "It says here that Delorsio always claimed that he was innocent of the attacks. The ME at the time was able to determine that the girls had been raped, but get this... the DNA samples taken from the bodies wasn't a match to Delorsio. He was just doing the cleanup for someone else."

"But he refused to name the person he was covering for," Adam continued. "Said that no one would believe him if he gave up the ID of the actual rapist. That he was a very powerful man and had told Delorsio that if he kept his mouth shut he would be rewarded."

"So Delorsio never gave him up," Flack said. "What happened then? He serve time?"

"Whoever his benefactor was, he made sure Delorsio had a really good lawyer who got his sentence reduced, but yeah. 19 years for multiple counts of _Accessory After the Fact_ and _Obstruction of Justice_. And here comes the kicker… he completed his sentences and was released from prison two months ago."

"Shit," Flack muttered. "We got a picture of this sicko?"

"Yeah. Uh… just hang on a sec." Adam made a few quick taps to his keyboard and the case file was replaced by the booking picture of a man around 20 years old with curly dark hair. "That's him. Eric Delorsio, circa 1987."

"Fuck me," Danny breathed, catching the group's attention. All eyes were on him as he stared in horror at the screen. He raised his hand, pointing a trembling finger at the picture. "That's him. That's the guy. H-he's older now but… but that's him."

Mac eyed Danny appraisingly. "You're sure?"

Danny nodded his head with finality. "Positive."

"Alright. So we found our connection between Trombino and Delorsio," Stella surmised. "But what does this have to do with you and Tommy?"

Danny stared at the picture, his thoughts clearly elsewhere as he chewed absently on his lip.

"Danny?" Lindsay asked, giving his hand a shake to catch his attention. "Dan? What are you thinking?"

"When did you say this Delorsio guy was arrested?" he asked.

"Uh…" Adam murmured, consulting his notes. "October 5, 1987."

"1987… 1987… 1987…" Danny muttered repeatedly to himself, closing his eyes and concentrating hard. "I would have been 10… what happened when I was 10…?"

-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-

"_Did you get 'em?" Danny hissed from his hiding place in the alley behind Leo Vanzella's store._

_Tommy nodded his head as he quietly closed the back door of the store behind himself. "Got 'em," he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his hand. He opened his fist to reveal two cigarettes stolen from the pack his father kept in the top drawer behind the cash register. _

"_Nice!" Danny said and the two boys grinned at one another. "I got a lighter… took it from my brother. He's gonna be so pissed at me if he finds out I borrowed it without asking."_

"_Whatever. You're way tougher than him, Danny," Tommy said with more bravado than either of the boys actually felt. Louie and his gang of older boys were scary as hell and earning the ire of the group was not something either of the two scrawny kids hiding out in the dark alley wanted to consider. "Besides, me, Gus and Paulie… we got your back."_

"_Thanks," Danny said as they began to walk down the alley, emerging onto the quiet streets of their Staten Island neighbourhood. It wasn't really all that late, but the people in the surrounding houses were white collar labourers; they put in long hours at tedious jobs and when they were off the clock they tended to tuck themselves up in their homes for the night. Even so, the two youngsters glanced nervously around them as they made their way down the sidewalk, keeping a wary eye out for any sign that someone had seen them with their ill-gotten goods. _

"_Where are we gonna do this, Danny?" Tommy whispered._

"_I dunno," Danny said, shrugging his shoulders. "The park?" He pushed his oversized spectacles up his nose, sighing when they slid back down his face mere seconds later. His own glasses had been broken a few weeks ago when Jamie Otto punched him in the face after catching Danny trying to kiss his sister. Danny's mother had been beyond furious; how were they supposed to afford to buy him a new pair? As a means of atonement, Maria Messer had taken Danny by the ear and dragged him kicking and screaming down to Leo Vanzella's store where she asked if there were any odd jobs Danny could help with after school in order to earn himself enough to replace his damaged eyewear. Leo had smiled down at Danny, ruffling his already unruly blond hair and telling Maria that "boys will be boys", and that he was sure he could find something constructive for Danny to do for an hour or two every day._

_In the meantime, Danny was forced to wear a hand-me-down pair of glasses that had previously belonged to his older cousin. They were far too big for him and not exactly his prescription, but they were better than nothing even if they did hurt his eyes when he wore them for too long. Plus there was the added bonus that they made him an easy target for the neighbourhood bullies._

"_We can't go to the park, Danny," Tommy lamented. "You know Lisa's mom is always watching out her window. And if she sees us, she'll call our moms so fast…"_

"_Alright. Fine," Danny sulked, kicking at a stone on the pathway and watching as it skittered off down a sewer grate. "Where do you want to go if you know so much?"_

_Tommy shrugged his shoulders. "I got the smokes. You're the smart one, Danny. You're supposed to think of things like this."_

"_Shut up. I'm not smart."_

"_Yeah you are," Tommy insisted. "You're gonna be a rocket scientist one day. You're gonna get out of this stupid place and never come back."_

"_I am not," Danny replied, giving Tommy a shove. "I'm gonna play for the Yankees one day. You can be my manager. We can get out of here together."_

"_For real? You swear? You won't forget about me when you're super rich and famous?"_

"_Don't be stupid," Danny laughed. "You're my best friend. Where I go, you go."_

_The boys grinned at one another, resuming their walk. They passed by a small video rental shop that had just opened a few months ago, large posters in the front window advertising the newest releases available for rent on VHS._

"_Hey," Danny said as he stopped and stared up at one poster in particular. "Remember last year when your dad took us all to see this movie?" he asked, pointing at the poster of four young boys around their age with the words Stand By Me written in large font above their heads. "You guys have a VCR right? Maybe we can rent it and watch it again."_

"_Yeah, that movie was awesome! That part with the leeches was the grossest thing I have ever seen in my whole life!" Tommy declared with gusto. "And that mean older kid… he reminded me of Louie's friend Sonny."_

"_Yeah," Danny agreed. "Sonny's an asshole."_

_Tommy stared at Danny with a look of awe on his face. "Whoa. You said a really bad word, Danny."_

"_So what? Louie says it all the time," Danny replied defiantly, puffing his chest out slightly at having impressed his friend. "Besides, it's okay to say asshole when you're talking about someone like Sonny."_

"_Really?" Tommy asked, unsure._

"_Would I lie to you, Tommy?"_

_Tommy shook his head then glanced over his shoulder to make sure he wouldn't be overheard. "Sonny is an asshole," he whispered and the two boys broke out into wild laughter, taking off down the street running at full tilt as they took turns saying the forbidden word, daring one another to say it louder with each repetition. Finally they came to a screeching halt after a few blocks, both of them panting and out of breath with deviant grins on their faces._

"_That was so funny," Tommy giggled. "My mom would be so mad if she heard me!"_

"_I know. Mine too!" Danny concurred with a chuckle. His eyes went wide and he pointed over Tommy's shoulder. "Whoa… Tommy, do you see that?"_

_Tommy turned to see what Danny was pointing at. They were standing in front of Mr. Trombino's house which stood just on the edge of a wild forested area. The woods were part of a large vacant and as yet undeveloped lot that was closed off from the public by a tall fence with an imposing homemade sign that warned that all trespassers would be prosecuted severely. But at the moment, the usually tightly sealed gate was slightly ajar, the heavy lock dangling uselessly from its chain._

"_Tommy…" Danny protested as Tommy pushed past him and began to creep along the sidewalk toward the open gate. "Please… we shouldn't go in there. We're not allowed. We should go home."_

"_But I just wanna see," Tommy hissed over his shoulder. "Come on, Danny. Don't be such a baby."_

"_I'm not a baby. I just don't want to get in trouble. If we get caught then they're gonna find out about the smokes… and then my mom is gonna kill me, bring me back to life and then kill me again."_

"_You're a baby," Tommy scoffed at Danny's excuse._

"_Tommy…" Danny whined, tugging on Tommy's sleeve._

"_Look, the gate is open, right? That means we're allowed to go in," Tommy reasoned. "It's only against the rules if the gate is closed."_

"_Says who?"_

"_My dad," Tommy said. He approached the gate, taking a deep breath before pushing himself through the narrow gap and grinning back at Danny from the other side. "See? I'm fine. Nothing is going to happen to us, Danny. Don't be such a scaredy-cat."_

_Unwilling to let his friend show him up any longer, Danny shoved his glasses resolutely back up his nose and stepped through the opening. Sticking close together, the two boys ventured further into the bushes, going deep enough so as not to be seen from the road, but not deep enough that they lost sight of the gate. They weren't stupid after all, and neither of them was experienced enough in the great outdoors to navigate their way out of the woods if they got lost._

"_Oh my God," Danny breathed as they crouched down amongst the foliage, "This is just like that movie. It's so cool."_

"_I know. It's awesome. Paulie and Gus are gonna be so jealous that they didn't come with us!" He looked around, feeling the ground beneath him before he sat down on the slightly damp earth. "There better not be any leeches around here."_

"_I don't think there are any leeches in New York," Danny said sagely. "They only live in country places like Alabama and Montana."_

"_Oh. Okay." _

_Satisfied with Danny's logic, the two boys settled down on the ground, taking out the cigarettes and lighter. Tommy handed Danny one of the long, slender sticks, watching as he put it between his lips and lit the tip, dragging in a deep breath before exhaling a puff of smoke._

"_What's it like? Is it cool?" Tommy asked, taking the lighter from Danny and preparing to light his own._

_Danny made a face, moving his tongue around in his mouth and starting to cough. "Yuck. It tastes gross," he said._

"_Maybe it's something you have to get used to," Tommy suggested. "Like, when I was little I hated peanut butter. But now I like it."_

"_Maybe," Danny said uncertainly. "Ugh. I don't feel good."_

_Tommy shrugged his shoulders, lighting his own cigarette. He inhaled and immediately began coughing out clouds of smoke, hacking loudly as he stubbed out his cigarette in the dirt. "That's disgusting," he choked out._

_Danny nodded his agreement, watching as Tommy stubbed out his cigarette and shoved the butt into his pocket. "What?" he asked at Danny's questioning glance. "I don't want to get in trouble for littering. If the police find a cigarette they have tests to tell them who smoked it. My dad said so."_

"_Really? That's pretty cool," Danny said, impressed. He picked his own butt up off the ground and pocketed it. _

"_Well this sucks," Tommy observed as the two boys sat miserably in the dark, disappointed that their grand foray into adulthood had taken such an unsatisfactory turn. "Now we stink like smoke and we feel sick. Grownups are really weird if they think this is cool."_

"_I know," Danny concurred. He was about to say more when his ears perked up at the distinctive snap of someone treading on a stick somewhere out in the woods. He squinted through his glasses into the darkness surrounding them looking for any sign of movement. "Tommy!" he whispered. "Did you hear that?"_

"_I didn't hear anything," Tommy replied._

"_Shh… listen!"_

_They were silent for a few moments before Tommy spoke again, his voice shaking slightly. "I don't hear anything, Danny," he whispered. "You better not be trying to scare me."_

"_I'm not trying to scare you," Danny breathed. "I really did hear something."_

"_What was it?" Tommy asked with an edge of panic in his voice._

"_I don't know," Danny answered, still listening intently. He strained his ears, but there was nothing except a light evening breeze rustling through the trees. Danny turned to Tommy, shrugging his shoulders. "Must have been the wind, I guess."_

"_You're a jerk, Danny. You scared me."_

_Danny smirked at his friend. "Now who's the scaredy-cat?"_

_Tommy opened his mouth to tell Danny off when they heard it; the faint metallic scrape of metal against the hard earth. With wide eyes, the two boys stared at one another. "You heard that too, right Danny?"_

_Silently, Danny nodded his head, creeping forward on all fours as he pushed his way through the undergrowth in the direction of the sound. He could hear Tommy hissing at him to come back, but he couldn't help himself. It was as if he was compelled to move forward._

_The sound kept getting louder and louder as Danny crept deeper into the woods. He could hear Tommy behind him now, not wanting to be left behind on his own. Crouched down on his haunches, Danny turned and put his finger to his lips, urging Tommy to keep quiet as he reached out and carefully brushed aside the small shrub that was obstructing his view._

"_What's that guy doing?" Tommy breathed in his ear as they watched a shadowy figure toil away, his shovel flashing in the faint moonlight as he tossed a load full of dirt over his shoulder._

"_Looks like he's digging a hole, genius," Danny replied, rolling his eyes at his friend. _

"_Yeah, I can see that," Tommy hissed back at him. "I meant what's he digging it for?"_

"_I dunno," Danny said, leaning forward to try and get a better look. "Looks like he's burying his garbage. But why would he do that?"_

"_Maybe he kissed the garbage man's wife and now nobody will come take his garbage away," Tommy suggested. "Uh oh. Danny…"_

"_What?"_

"_I have to sneeze."_

"_Well just hold it in," Danny said. He turned to look at Tommy and could see that his eyes were beginning to water and he'd plugged his nose in an attempt to reign in his sneeze. Danny grabbed his friend by the arm and attempted to drag him away from the scene they had stumbled upon as quickly and quietly as possible. "Come on, Tommy. Don't sneeze, man. Not yet. Just try to think about something else…"_

_But it was too late. Still only a short distance from their object of surveillance, Tommy let out one holy mother of a sneeze, the sound echoing loudly in the silence. The digging stopped. The sound of a shovel being thrown to the ground. Then rapid footsteps._

_In a flash, the two boys were on their feet making a mad dash toward the gate, heedless of the stray branches and twigs that clawed at their clothing and scratched their skin, tripping and stumbling in their haste to get away._

_They reached the gate, frantically pushing and shoving one another, both of them wanting to be the first through the opening, neither wanting to be left standing alone on the wrong side of the fence for even a fraction of a second. _

"_Get outta my way, Danny! We gotta get out of here!" Tommy cried out, as Danny tried to squeeze through the gate head of him._

"_Ow! Quit pushing me!" Danny shot back. With a final grunt they both collapsed on the sidewalk in a tangled heap. They quickly picked themselves up and brushed themselves off, running down the sidewalk while glancing back over their shoulders to ensure that their pursuer hadn't followed them back out to civilization. So focused were they on what was potentially behind them that they paid no attention to what was in front of them, crashing into a man standing in the middle of the sidewalk._

"_Ahhh!" Tommy screamed as the man reached out to steady the boys and keep them from falling. "Danny, he got me! Run! Run! Save yourself!"_

"_Boys! Boys! I heard shouting. Are you alright?"_

_Panting and still slightly jittery from their scare, Danny and Tommy looked up to see Sal Trombino staring down at them._

"_There's somebody in there!" Danny wheezed, pointing at the woods behind them. "I think it's like an axe murderer or something!"_

"_An axe murder? Really?" Sal asked with no small amount of sarcasm in his voice. _

"_Uh huh. It really was," Tommy said earnestly.  
_

_Sal smiled, leading the boys into the relative safety of his fenced-in front yard and shook his head at the pair of them. "And what were you guys doing in there?"_

"_Uh… nothing?" Sal raised a disbelieving eyebrow at Danny's pitiful attempt at an explanation. "Um… exploring?"_

"_Or maybe smoking?" Sal suggested. The boys hung their heads, shamefacedly scuffing their feet against the pavement._

"_Yes sir," they admitted in unison._

"_Smoking is a bad habit, guys," Sal reprimanded them. "And so is sneaking onto private property."_

"_Yes sir." Sal let out a chuckle as the two boys stared dolefully up at him with identical hangdog expressions._

"_I'm sure it was nothing," Sal assured them. "You guys just got a little spooked because it's so dark." _

_Danny and Tommy shook their heads vehemently. "There was a man digging a hole in there," Tommy said. "We saw him."_

"_Okay, how about this," Sal began, ushering the two boys back out onto the sidewalk. "You two head home and I'll check it out for you, okay? And if you promise never to go trespassing in there ever again, I promise not to tell anyone that I saw you tonight, alright? Your moms are going to be mad enough when they see the state of your clothes. You boys keep your noses clean and I will keep your secret. Capisce?"_

_Grinning, Danny and Tommy nodded their heads. "Capisce!" they called out as they tore off down the street, leaving Sal standing on the sidewalk watching as they disappeared around the corner._

-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-

"I was in so much trouble when I got home," Danny said, smiling sadly at the memory. "Not only did I smell like smoke and my clothes were all torn, but when Tommy and I were fighting to get through the gate I scratched one of the lenses of my cousin's glasses. I thought my mother was gonna skin me alive. I was grounded for two weeks after that night."

"Did you and Tommy ever talk to the police about any of this?" Mac asked and Danny shook his head.

"No. We never told anybody. Not even Gus and Paulie," Danny said. "We were just kids, you know? We were embarrassed. We figured we got ourselves all worked up about nothing. But then a few days later my mom and dad were talking about it at the breakfast table – how the police had discovered a mass grave in those woods, and wasn't it fortunate that Sal Trombino had been out walking his dog that night?" Danny looked at the faces around him, giving his colleagues a sheepish smile. "Me and Tommy, we agreed that we didn't want to get Sal in trouble. He'd already told the police his story and we didn't want to contradict him and make him look like a liar. He may not have told the whole truth, but he didn't exactly lie either. He really did take his dog out to check out those woods… he just left out the part where a pair of idiot kids scared themselves silly and caught his attention in the first place. I guess we thought we owed it to him to keep our mouths shut. We never talked about it again – not to each other and not to anyone else. And Sal was as good as his word – as far as I know he never told a soul about seeing me and Tommy that night."

"Until now," Mac said ominously. At Danny's inquiring glance, Mac elaborated. "This makes a lot more sense now. Think about it, Danny; Sal Trombino calls the police saying that he's hearing noises in the woods. The police arrive and find Delorsio burying his latest victim. Delorsio would have found out during the trial – if not sooner – that Sal is the one that called the police, but from the amount of noise you said that you and Tommy made out there that night, he must have realized that there was someone else out there before Trombino called it in. So he knew that if it hadn't been for the two of you, Trombino probably never would have gone out to investigate and he would have never been caught."

"Okay," Danny agreed. "I guess that makes sense."

"Hear me out," Mac urged before continuing. "So Delorsio goes to jail and while he's there he's plotting his revenge against Trombino… and whoever else was in the woods that night. He doesn't have any names, but he knows that Trombino does. He's the only other person that knew about you and Tommy."

"So when he gets out," Flack said, picking up on what Mac was saying, "He goes to visit Trombino and he tries to get the names of the other people from him. Jesus," Flack shook his head in disbelief. "And from what Sid said after the autopsy, Trombino must have held out for a long time… two days at least before he finally gave you guys up."

"Right. And that's when Delorsio shot him," Stella said, nodding her understanding. "Once he had the names… he didn't need Trombino any more. He'd outlived his usefulness."

"I was just a kid," Danny said softly. "We didn't know what we were seeing! We just… how could this Delorsio guy hold onto this for so long? What the fuck is wrong with him?"

"We'll find out, Danny. Don't worry," Mac said, giving Danny's shoulder a comforting squeeze. "But not tonight. We're all beat. We've had a long day. Everybody go home and get some sleep. We'll pick it up again tomorrow morning. Lindsay… can I have a word with you please?"

Lindsay looked up as Mac inclined his head, indicating that he wanted to talk to her away from the rest of the group. She pushed herself up off the edge of Danny's bed and followed him to the other side of the room. "Yes, Mac."

"From what Don tells me, this Delorsio character… well, Don said that Danny remembered him making some threats directed at you." He fixed her with a serious gaze. "I've sent Danny's parents to a hotel for the night with police protection and I've made similar arrangements for you. I just can't take the chance of leaving you unprotected."

"Um… wow. Thanks Mac. That's… I really appreciate it," Lindsay replied, genuinely touched by his gesture. "But, um… if it's all the same to you, I'd rather stay here tonight… with Danny."

Mac raised his eyebrows. "What? You're going to sit up all night?" Mac asked. "Those chairs aren't meant for sleeping in, Lindsay. Besides, his doctor said he's out of the woods. I don't think he needs constant supervision."

"I know that, Mac," Lindsay replied. "But I want to stay. I'll manage."

"Alright. Suit yourself," Mac sighed, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. "If you want to turn down a perfectly good hotel room – paid for by the city, I might add – to spend your night here then that's fine with me. Just don't expect me to give you any sympathy when you wake up tomorrow with a massive kink in your neck."

"I promise you won't hear a word of complaint from me tomorrow."

Mac shook his head, moving toward the doorway where Stella, Hawkes and Flack were waiting for him, having packed up the computer and the myriad of cords after severing their connection with Adam.

"Alright you two, behave yourselves," Flack said, giving them a wink. "No rough stuff, Lindsay. I don't think Danno's up to it."

"Get outta here, ya clown!" Danny said, chucking an empty cup in Flack's direction. Sharing knowing grins with Stella and Hawkes, Flack gave them a final wave before disappearing down the hallway. Mac glanced back into the room, giving Danny and Lindsay appraising looks before he turned to Stella.

"Why do I feel like I'm missing something?" he asked.

Stella smiled at him, placing her hand on his shoulder. "Ah, you know how Flack is… he's always trying to wind Danny up."

Mac sighed, narrowing his eyes at her before he turned to address Danny and Lindsay one final time. "Get some sleep. We'll come by and see you in the morning."

"Goodnight, Mac," Lindsay said, taking her seat beside Danny's bed.

"G'night, boss."

As the door closed behind Mac, Lindsay let out a sigh, smiling shyly at Danny. "Well, so much for our dirty little secret," she said.

Danny grinned back at her. "Well... the secret part anyway." He took her hand in his, giving her a little tug – a clear invitation for her to join him up on the bed. She took the hint, clamouring carefully onto the mattress and curling into his side as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"You okay, Danny?" she asked when Danny had been quiet for a few moments.

"Yeah. I guess," he replied. "It's just… I haven't thought about that night in a long time. Me and Tommy, we never talked about it again and that was one of a handful of times that I ever talked to Sal Trombino. They guy kept to himself, never bothered anyone… How could I have been so stupid? Why didn't I think of it earlier?"

"You were just a kid, Danny. You didn't know what you saw, and Trombino made a choice – he chose not to drag you and Tommy into the investigation," Lindsay pointed out. "Imagine what would have happened if you two had come forward with your story… it could have derailed the whole case. Delorsio's lawyer would have had a field day poking holes in the prosecution's case if it came out that Trombino lied. Delorsio could have gone free and who knows what would have happened then."

"I know. You're right," Danny sighed. "But I still feel like shit. I'm the one that wanted to go deeper into the woods... it's my fault, Linds. And now Tommy's dead and so is Sal. Delorsio's out there somewhere and… fuck! And now you're in danger too."

"Shh… that's enough, Danny," Lindsay soothed, placing a gentle kiss to his cheek in an attempt to keep him from getting himself worked up. "You've been through a lot today, baby. Let's just… let's talk about something else okay?" Danny nodded, although his expression was still troubled. "So… you were kind of an early bloomer," Lindsay began, keeping her tone light and playful in an attempt to lift Danny's mood. "10 years old and you were already getting into fights over girls?"

Danny chuckled and glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "Of all the things I said tonight, that's what you hone in on?"

"What? I need to know what I'm up against," Lindsay replied with a smile. "So come on… tell me all about her."

Danny took a deep breath and let it out slowly, settling back onto his pillows and smiling fondly as he remembered. "Julie Otto," he sighed. "Prettiest girl in school. Her brother got pissed at me because he thought I was putting the moves on her, but actually it was the other way around." Lindsay raised her eyebrows sceptically, causing Danny to chuckle. "I swear to God, Linds. No word of a lie! It was my 10th birthday and Julie passed me a note at lunch asking me to meet her behind the gym after school so she could give me my birthday present. I was so nervous all day and when the bell went at three o'clock I ran down to the gym so fast… she was standing there all by herself looking so pretty."

"And then what happened?" Lindsay asked.

Danny scrunched up his face. "Her brother Jamie happened," he explained. "We were this close -" he held up his hand with his thumb and forefinger less than an inch apart, "- when Jamie came storming around the gym and tried to knock my block off. He broke my glasses and Julie ran off crying… I had to wait two more years before I finally got to kiss Julie Otto properly. But man, was it worth the wait."

Lindsay laughed as Danny grinned triumphantly at the memory. "You're persistent, Messer. I'll give you that."

He turned his head so that he was facing her, gently stroking her hair. "For the right girl, it's always worth the wait," he said quietly, leaning in and placing a tender kiss to her lips.

They broke apart and Lindsay rested her head on his shoulder, surreptitiously wiping at her eyes before carefully wrapping her arms around him, being mindful of his injuries.

"Linds?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for staying… you didn't have to, you know. I heard what Mac said… you could be lying in a nice comfy bed right now instead of squished onto this uncomfortable piece of crap with me."

Lindsay shifted slightly so that she could look up at him. "There's no place I'd rather be right now, Danny," she said. "I'm fine right where I am, and I'll stay as long as you want me to."

He smiled at her before pursing his lips. She obliged him with a gentle kiss before settling herself back down on his shoulder. "Besides," she yawned as her eyes drooped closed, "We've got plenty of time for hotel rooms later… when you're feeling better."

**

* * *

So… what's the verdict? Yay? Nay?**

**I hope you guys had as much fun seeing 10 year-old Danny as I had writing him… and that you are still somewhat intrigued with this case. Don't worry… I haven't given everything away just yet! Mwa ha ha!**

**I would love, Love, LOVE to hear what you all have to say about this chapter so please feel free to leave a review. Liked it? Hated it? Let me know!**


	16. And Into the Fire

**A/N: *peaks out from hidey hole***

**Sorry to keep you all waiting for so long for this update. With this story I really just have to wait for inspiration to hit and until it does, I find myself struggling to pick up the pieces and bring them together in a way that makes sense. Unfortunately, that means that there may be times when there is a lag between updates. Fortunately, it means that inspiration has struck and you now find yourselves the happy recipients of another chapter. Yay!**

**Thanks to all who reviewed. I was so nervous about delving into Danny's childhood like that, but it seems I needn't have been. Your lovely reviews and demands for more were very much appreciated!**

**I'll leave you now to enjoy this next chapter. :D**

* * *

Danny winced as he began to wake. His body hurt in ways he'd never even imagined and he wanted nothing more than to fall back to sleep and forget everything; the trauma of the previous evening and the memories from his childhood that continued to bombard him now that the floodgates had been opened. With a groan he reached out, his hand searching for the body that had been beside his when he'd fallen asleep, frowning when he found nothing but an empty dent in the bedding. It was still warm, indicating that he hadn't been alone for long.

He cracked open his eyes, blinking as the harsh light flooding through the open curtains rendered him temporarily blind until his eyes had a chance to adjust.

"Hey. You're awake."

Small, warm fingers stroked his face and he smiled at the familiar voice.

"Linds?"

"Yeah. I'm right here, Danny."

"Mmm… mornin'," he mumbled, his heart doing a little flip flop in his chest as her face came into focus in front of him. She smiled at him from her seat in the chair beside his bed. "You sleep okay?"

"As well as can be expected considering the size of the bed," Lindsay replied with a wry smile. "How about you? You seemed a little restless last night. How are you feeling?"

"I hurt," Danny admitted and Lindsay took his hand in hers and gave his fingers a little squeeze. "I'm sorry if I kept you up. Maybe now you're wishing you'd taken that hotel room Mac offered."

She shook her head and pressed a kiss to his fingers. "Like I said, I wanted to be here with you. I wouldn't have slept any better someplace else. I would have been up all night worrying about you."

Danny smiled and reached out to stroke her cheek with his fingers. "You're something else, you know that?" he said, tenderly caressing her face. "Thank you for staying."

She smiled and turned her face, kissing his palm. Before she had a chance to respond, there was a soft knock at the door, and Dr. Halpern poked her head inside the room and nodded a greeting at the pair of them.

"Oh good. You're up," she said, stepping inside and closing the door behind her. She approached the bed and gave Danny a quick examination, checking the condition of his sutures and dressings before making a few notes on his chart. "How are you feeling this morning, Mr. Messer? Any pain?"

"A little," he replied. "Mostly my side and my head."

Dr. Halpern nodded her head. "That's to be expected. I'll see what I can do about upping your painkillers temporarily until you're over the worst of it."

"Thanks."

"Now, I've got you scheduled for a CT scan this morning, so a nurse will be by in about 20 minutes to take you down and get you prepped. The whole procedure takes around 15 minutes from start to finish, and after I've consulted with a neurologist, we may be able to get you out of here sometime this afternoon."

Danny breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks. That'd be great."

Dr. Halpern smiled, then turned her attention to Lindsay. "I see you're still here, Miss Monroe," she said. "Could have sworn I told you to go home."

Lindsay lowered her eyes to the bed and gave Danny's fingers a soft squeeze. "You did," she said. "But I don't really have a place to go home to at the moment. So I figured that under the circumstances, I might as well stay here with Danny."

Dr. Halpern sighed and gave Lindsay a sympathetic nod. "Right. Detective Flack explained what happened… I'm sorry. If I'd known we could have made arrangements to make you a little more comfortable."

"It's alright. I'm fine," Lindsay said.

Dr. Halpern regarded the two of them for a moment before shaking her head, as if to bring herself back to the task at hand. "So, I need you to drink this, Mr. Messer," she said, handing Danny a small plastic cup filled with a clear liquid. "It's a bit thicker than water and it tastes a little funny, but it's to help increase the contrast and make your CT a little easier to read."

Danny accepted the cup, sniffing the contents warily before tilting his head back and downing the viscous substance in one gulp. He smacked his lips and made a face. "Blech. It's like drinking flavourless runny Jell-O."

Lindsay laughed, taking the cup and tossing it into the garbage beside his bed. "You big baby," she giggled. "Take your medicine like a man, Messer."

"Shut up. I took it, didn't I?"

"Mm hmm," Lindsay teased. "But not without whining about it."

"You're mean," Danny sulked. "Dr. Halpern, tell her she's not allowed to be mean to me until I'm feeling better."

"You know what? I think I'm gonna stay out of this," Dr. Halpern chuckled, backing away and heading for the door. "I'll let you two sort this out for yourselves. I'll be seeing you after your scan, Mr. Messer. A nurse will be with you shortly."

"Okay. Thanks again."

Once the door closed behind the doctor, Lindsay moved to take her place on the bed beside Danny, curling into his side. "Are you always such a whiner when you're sick, Messer?" she asked with a smile. "Because I'll tell you right here and now, it might have worked with your previous girlfriends, but you're not getting any sympathy from me if you keep that up."

"God, you're mean," Danny replied, leaning in and capturing her lips in a kiss. "I'm gonna remember this the next time you're feeling under the weather. I can be a hard-ass too, you know."

"Mmm," Lindsay murmured between kisses. "Pull the other one, cowboy. You can't fool me. You're such a softie."

"Only when it comes to you," Danny replied, sliding his arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer. "Anything ever happened to you and I'd be a wreck. I thought I was gonna pass out when you went under cover in the Hollies case. I don't think I took a single breath until I heard you call my name and I knew you were safe."

"I thought I was a goner," Lindsay sighed, burying her face in Danny's neck as the events of that fateful afternoon – the afternoon she first realized how Danny truly felt about her, and she about him – rolled through her mind. "When he pulled that gun on me and I dropped that pressure bomb… and then you were there. I could hear the panic in your voice and when you found me…" She raised her head and looked into his eyes. "I was so glad it was you that found me. I only wanted you. I needed you."

She leaned in and kissed him softly, their lips moving slowly and lovingly, tongues gently exploring the other's mouth as hands meandered lazily beneath the sheets.

"God, I want you so bad," Danny breathed after breaking their kiss to catch his breath.

"I know, baby," she replied, pressing light, fluttering kisses to the underside of his jaw. "I want you too. But you're gonna have to take it easy when you get out of the hospital. I don't want you ripping any of your stitches."

"So… you're gonna be on top, then?"

Lindsay laughed and swatted him gently on his arm. "Danny!"

"What?"

"You've got a one-track mind, mister," she replied, earning herself a cheeky grin from her bedmate. "But it's nice to feel wanted."

"Happy to oblige," Danny murmured, kissing her temple. She lay her head back down on his shoulder, her fingers toying absently with his dog tags.

"Danny?"

"Mmm?"

"Did you mean what you said last night?"

"I said a lot of things last night, Linds. You gotta be more specific."

"You said… you said you loved me," Lindsay whispered, raising her head to look at him face to face. "Did you really mean it?"

"Of course I did," Danny assured her. "What, you think I just go around telling random women that I love them just for the hell of it?" He shook his head and reached out to affectionately pinch her chin between his thumb and forefinger. "I don't take those words lightly, Lindsay. That's why I've never said them to any other woman besides my mother before now. I wanted to make sure that when I did say them for the first time… that I really meant it." He leaned in and kissed the tip of her nose. "And I love you, Lindsay Monroe."

Her heart melted at his words and she smiled back at him, returning his kiss with one of her own. "I love you too, Danny," she said. "It's just… it seems a little fast, don't you think? I mean a week ago we were just friends and coworkers. We've only slept together twice, and I just…"

"Hey, Lindsay. Listen to me," Danny shushed her, pulling her back down so she was snuggled into his shoulder. "I may not have a bunch of experience with this whole _relationship _thing, but as far as I know there's no rulebook that says you have to be with someone for X amount of time before you know how much they mean to you. I feel what I feel, I can't help it," he said with a shrug of his shoulders. "You do so much more than just get my body going, Linds. You get inside my head and under my skin. I've never felt that with anyone else. Ever. Besides," he began, chuckling and causing Lindsay to glance up at him. "We've been at this a lot longer than a week, Montana. I think you and me… we probably set a new Guinness World Record for the longest round of foreplay in history. It's coming up on a year and a half since we met, and I've been having to take cold showers almost every day after work for at least the past year. Maybe even longer."

Lindsay could feel her cheeks burning and she tried in vain to hide her delight at his candid revelation. "Liar," she playfully accused.

Danny raised his eyebrows. "I'm serious. My hydro bills skyrocketed after you came to work at the lab." He smiled and ran his fingers through her hair. "Seriously though, if you feel like we're going to fast… I don't want you to be uncomfortable, Linds. I just want you, and I'll do whatever it takes to be with you. And if that means taking it slow for a little while, well then…" He trailed off, shrugging his shoulders.

Lindsay gave him a small smile and pressed a kiss to his chin. "It means more than you know to hear you say that," she said. "But I didn't mean I wanted us to slow down. I just… I guess I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page."

"And?"

She laughed at his eagerness and nodded her head. "Same page. Same line. Same word, even."

"Good. Glad that's settled."

They lay in comfortable silence together for a few moments, exchanging soft kisses and gentle touches until a soft knock on the door drew them apart.

"Mr. Messer?" A perky blond nurse poked her head through the open door. "You ready to head down to Medical Imaging for your CT scan?"

"Yeah. Let's get this over with, huh?"

Lindsay hopped down from the bed before helping Danny to alight into the wheelchair the nurse had brought along with her. He grumbled at the implication that he needed such a contraption to get around, but the nurse was insistent, telling him that it was hospital policy.

The door was locked behind them, the key safely tucked into the pocket of one of the armed guards that escorted the small group down the three floors and into a waiting room where the nurse advised Lindsay and the guards that they would have to wait while she took Danny a bit further down the hall to conduct the test.

"I'll be right here waiting for you when you get out," Lindsay promised, kissing the top of his head before giving him a little wave as he was wheeled away and around the corner. She glanced at her watch, noting that the rest of the team should be up and most were probably already at the lab. She pulled out her phone, indicating to the guards that she was just going to step outside for a moment to make a call. The two men shared a look before one of them stepped forward as if to follow her.

"Um… you don't have to come with me. I'll be fine."

"We have strict orders from Detective Flack," he informed her matter-of-factly. "He said when Detective Messer went in for his test, we weren't to let you out of our sight. So Catton is gonna stay here with him and I'm coming with you."

Lindsay rolled her eyes, cursing Flack's over-protectiveness. She could tell by the determined set of the officer's jaw that this wasn't a fight she was going to win, so she relented, walking away down the hall with her armed escort following close behind.

A short elevator ride later, they emerged onto the ground floor and Lindsay pushed through the front doors of the hospital into the crisp morning air, inhaling deeply and taking in a lungful of fresh air. She walked along the manicured path that ran along the front of the hospital, wanting to keep out of the way of the busy main doors.

She dialled Flack's number and waited, glancing over her shoulder at her shadow who was waiting patiently a few feet away.

"Flack."

"I don't need an escort you know," she said by way of a greeting. "This is a little overkill, don't you think?"

"Well good morning to you too, Monroe," Flack chuckled. "I take it Danno's in having his test, am I right?"

"He is. And I'm outside being carefully watched by one of your lackeys."

"Hey, Anderson and Catton are good guys, Monroe," Flack said. "They're just doing their jobs. You may think of it as overkill, but Mac and I disagree. We don't want to risk anything happening to you or Messer."

"I know," Lindsay sighed. "Sorry. I guess I'm just tired of all of this crap. I just want to be able to go outside and make a phone call without having to be reminded..."

"You can't underestimate the danger you guys are in," Flack warned. "I had my guys checking all the hospitals in the area for anyone matching Delorsio's description and we got nothing. He's just disappeared, Lindsay. And that's not the worst of it."

Lindsay's heart sunk. "There's more?"

"Just had a meeting with Mac, Sid, Stella and Hawkes," Flack informed her, his tone sombre. "Sid finally got the results back on the stomach contents of that rat we found at Danny's. Remember how he said he found a kind of, um… _meaty_ substance in the stomach?"

"Yeah…" Lindsay's tone was wary. She wasn't at all sure she wanted to know.

"Came back as human. DNA was an exact match to Tommy Vanzella. Dude fed his pet rat Tommy's eyes and tongue, Lindsay. He is seriously, _seriously_ messed up."

Lindsay raised a shaking hand to cover her mouth. "Oh, God… Don, that's… that's…"

"Fucked right the hell up? Yeah. It is," Flack said flatly. "So quit your bitchin' and just accept that until Delorsio is caught, you and Messer ain't gonna get a lot of one on one time, alright? I'm sorry, but it's for your own good."

"Yeah," Lindsay agreed quietly. "Okay."

Feeling as though he had chastised her sufficiently, Flack sighed and scrubbed his hand over his face. "So, how are you guys doing?"

"Good, I guess," she replied, clearly still shaken by Flack's news. "We had a bit of a rough night, but nothing too terrible. He's sore, but other than that he seems okay." She paused. "He's not going to take the news about the rat well though, Don."

"I know, Linds," Flack sighed. "We were all pretty horrified ourselves, but it's not our friend, you know? We didn't even know the guy. Danny did."

Lindsay could feel angry, frustrated tears welling up in her eyes. "How can someone do something so horrible to another person?" she asked. "I just don't understand."

"It's probably better that you don't, Monroe," Flack said kindly. "If you did, I think I'd be kinda worried about you."

Lindsay chuckled half-heartedly, wiping at her eyes and sniffling. "I'd better get back inside," she said as a car pulled up to the curb in front of her. A man wearing a dark, baggy sweat suit and a Yankees baseball cap got out and gave her a friendly wave as he moved past her up the path toward the hospital doors. "Danny's gonna be done in a few minutes and I said I'd be there when he got out."

"Well, you let me know if you guys need anything," Flack offered. "If his doctor lets him out today and you need a ride, or if you want some clean clothes from your place… you know my number."

"Uh… yeah. Yeah, I do," Lindsay said, slightly distracted by the conversation she could hear going on behind her. She listened to Flack with half an ear, tilting her head to overhear her guard talking quietly with another man.

"No, sir. I don't have a lighter you can borrow," he said. "I don't smoke."

"Oh, well, sorry to bother you then," the other man said. Out of the corner of her eye Lindsay saw the man – the same man that had emerged from the car in front of her moments earlier – turn to walk away, pausing after a few steps before he swung around and pulled out the tire iron that had been concealed inside his oversized jacket, slamming it down on the back of the officer's head, knocking him out and sending him crashing to the ground with a sickening thud.

It all happened so fast that Lindsay had no time to react. Before she even knew what was going on, the man had grabbed the officer's gun from his holster and had it pointed right at her. He calmly turned off the safety and cocked the gun, staring her down with harsh, angry eyes.

"It's so nice to finally meet you in person, Detective," he said, his voice laced with a maniacal edge. "Messer had such nice things to say about you, but I got the distinct impression he wasn't keen on us meeting any time soon. I have been sitting out in that parking lot for hours just trying to think of a way to get inside… imagine my delight when I saw you standing out here, just waiting for me to come and introduce myself."

Lindsay shook her head, unable to form words. Her mouth moved, but no sound came out and she could feel her legs beginning to tremble under her weight. She could hear Flack's voice frantically calling her name on the other end of the line.

"Lindsay? Lindsay! What the fuck is going on? Are you alright? Answer me!"

"I… I…"

"Hang up the phone and kick it over to me," Delorsio instructed her. When she hesitated, he took a step toward her, centering the gun's sights directly on her forehead. "Drop it, bitch. Or I swear to God I will kill you right here and now."

**

* * *

Eek!**

**Now, before you all start complaining about me leaving you on another cliff-hanger, let me defend myself. I've been very nice and not done a cliffie in a few chapters, so it's only fair that I get to drop one in here or there every once in a while. **

**Now, having said that, let the slings and arrows commence. I'm not afraid. (We all know that's total bullshit – I'm actually terrified. So be nice, okay?)**


	17. Expect the Unexpected

**A/N: Good Golly, it's been a while hasn't it? That seems to be my mantra these days. Sorry folks. Life is crazy right now and it's not often that I get a chance to sit and write uninterrupted. But luckily I found a few minutes this weekend to assemble the tidbits I'd written over these past few weeks and I hope that they make even an iota of sense… **

**Oh, and for those of you lovely followers who left a review for Chapter 16 – THANK YOU! You all really made my day!**

**As a reward, I present to you… Chapter 17.**

* * *

"_Drop it bitch, or I swear to God I will kill you right here and now!"_

"_Okay… okay. I'm putting it down. Just please… don't shoot."_

Flack's heart nearly stopped beating in his chest as his mind sluggishly pieced together who it was Lindsay was talking to. He could hear the slight tinge of panic in her voice, although she was doing her best to keep calm. He heard the phone hit the pavement and the clatter as she did as instructed and kicked the device across the ground. Seconds later a man's voice came over the line.

"Who am I speaking to?"

"This is Detective Flack from the NYPD," he said, pushing himself up from his chair in the break room and sprinting down the hall of the lab. "Who are you?" He barged through the door of Mac's office, not even bothering to check and see if the head of the Crime Lab was busy.

Mac looked up from his desk, startled by Flack's sudden intrusion. "Don, what…?" he began, but was cut off by Flack's hand raised to silence him.

The man on the other end of the line clicked his tongue at Flack. "Tsk, tsk. I think you know who I am, detective," he said.

Flack pushed the button on his handset to turn on the speakerphone so Mac could hear both sides of the conversation before he posed his next question. "What do you want, Delorsio?"

"What is it with you New York detectives and asking stupid questions?" Delorsio chuckled ominously. "Messer was full of them last night… And here I thought you guys were supposed to be the city's finest."

"Yeah, you're funny," Flack shot back. "What do you want?"

"I want Danny Messer… dead," Delorsio growled. "I want to watch as his life as it slips away from him. I want him to pay for what he did to me. He stole my life from me and it's time I returned the favour." Flack caught Mac's eye and the two men shared a worried glance. "I'll be in touch, detective. Until then, I think I'll take a little time to get to know his pretty girlfriend a bit better. Bye for now."

Before either Flack or Mac could say anything, the line went dead.

Mac was the first to speak, his voice a low, dangerous monotone. "What the hell is going on, Don? What did he mean about getting to know…" He broke off, his eyes widening in fear. "Where's Lindsay? I thought you told your men to keep a close eye on her and Danny!"

"I did!" Flack roared back, his hackles raised in self-defence as he stuffed his phone into his pocket and started to pace back and forth in front of Mac. "I… I was just talking to her. She went outside to get some fresh air and was calling to complain about having Anderson follow her around." He paused and ran his fingers through his hair. "Then I heard a man's voice in the background… and I just knew it was Delorsio. He told her he'd been sitting out in the parking lot waiting for a chance to get into the hospital and when he saw her…" He shook his head. "Fuck. Fuck!"

"And Anderson?"

Flack shrugged his shoulders helplessly. "Delorsio must have taken him out," he replied morosely. "If he'd thought the guy was a threat, Anderson wouldn't have hesitated to take him down. Maybe Delorsio distracted him? I don't know. I don't know!" he moaned, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. "Fuck! I thought I had all our bases covered! I had armed guards assigned to Danny and Lindsay, I had his parents protected, I had unmarked cars parked outside both their apartment buildings, and he still managed to get her. God dammit!"

Mac placed a comforting hand on Flack's shoulder before he turned and grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. "Come on, Don. We gotta go," he said as he hurriedly led the way out into the hall. "The sooner we get to the hospital, the sooner we can pick up on his trail and get Lindsay back." He punched the button to call the elevator as he pulled his phone from its holster on his belt. "Stella and Hawkes were on their way to the hotel to pick up Danny's parents. I'll call them and get them to meet us at the hospital ASAP. I'll leave Adam here with Sid; they're going over Delorsio's original case files to see if there's anything there we can use to figure out where he might be hiding."

* * *

"Alright, Mr. Messer. You're all done," the white-coated technician said, helping Danny up into a sitting position after extracting him from beneath the scanner.

"That's it?" he asked as he swung his legs over the side of the bench and got unsteadily to his feet.

"That's it," the technician said, giving him a smile before waving over the perky blonde nurse from earlier with his wheelchair. "Liz here is going to take you back up to your room and Dr. Halpern will be with you in about an hour, once she's had a chance to go over your results with the neurologist."

Danny nodded, eyeing the wheelchair warily before letting out a sigh and dropping into the seat and letting the nurse wheel him back out through the large swinging doors and into the waiting area. His eyes eagerly scanned the now crowded room for Lindsay's familiar face, his heart sinking slightly when he was greeted instead by the large, burly figure of Officer Catton.

"Where's Lindsay?" he asked as Catton fell into step beside his chariot.

"Detective Monroe went outside a few minutes ago to make a phone call," Catton explained. "Don't worry; Anderson's with her. Your test was over sooner than we thought, so I'll make sure you're settled and I'll radio down to him that we've gone back upstairs."

Danny nodded and leaned back as he was wheeled into the elevator, the small group emerging a moment later into the bright and cheery maternity ward. Pastel coloured ducklings and teddy bears painted into playful scenes on the walls and windows smiled merrily at him as he passed and he shook his head. He could not wait to get out of this fucking place.

His brow furrowed as he realized that he had no idea where he would go once he left the hospital. He sure as hell couldn't go home. Lindsay's place was out of the question and he cringed at the sheer notion of putting any of his friends and family in danger by staying with them. Letting out a weary sigh, Danny decided to let it go for now. He and Lindsay could figure that out later. They could stay at a hotel if they had to, or even sleep at the lab; he didn't really care at this point. All that mattered was that they would be together.

With the help of the nurse, Danny got himself settled back in his bed, his body aching and exhausted after his brief excursion. He lay back on his pillows while the nurse hung his IV from the post beside his bed, informing him that at Dr. Halpern's insistence, she was upping his painkiller dosage slightly, so he might be a bit groggy for a while.

Finished with her task, she asked Danny if there was anything else that he needed before giving his leg a friendly pat and leaving the room. He could hear Catton's deep tenor rumbling through the closed door as he spoke with someone out in the hall and his ears perked up at the sound of approaching footsteps. The doorknob jiggled and turned and Danny gazed expectantly at the door as it opened, his smile slipping slightly when Flack poked his head into the room.

"Whoa. Lindsay… you got way taller," Danny joked. "And uglier."

Flack smiled half-heartedly at Danny's greeting as he closed the door behind himself, taking a seat in the chair at Danny's bedside.

"Ah, come on, Flack. It was a little funny," Danny pressed, although he was slightly unnerved by the dark expression that settled on Flack's face and the way he refused to make eye contact. "What? What's the matter?"

Flack took a deep breath and held it for a moment as he tried to find a delicate way of breaking the news of Lindsay's disappearance to Danny. Should he just spit it out? Get it over with quickly as he would do if he were ripping off a band-aid? Or should he gently try and ease the facts on Danny, letting him slowly adjust to the notion that Lindsay was gone – in the hands of the madman that had nearly ended his own life not 12 hours earlier? His shoulders sagged under the tremendous weight of indecision and he stared silently at the floor at his feet.

"Jesus, Don. You're freaking me out here a little bit," Danny said anxiously. "What the hell's the matter?"

Unable to put it off any longer, Flack raised his head, meeting Danny eye to eye.

"It's Delorsio," he said quietly. "He's… he's got Lindsay."

"What?" Danny asked, his shock apparent on his face and his voice barely above a whisper. His blue eyes wide with fear, he shook his head. "No. No, no. That can't be right. I just saw her. She was just downstairs with me! I went in for my test and Catton said she just went outside to… No." Danny shook his head resolutely. "No. There's gotta be another explanation. You're just... you don't... I..."

"I'm so sorry, Danny," Flack gently interrupted his friend, his hands fidgeting nervously on his lap. "She was outside with Anderson making a phone call when he approached her. We think he knocked Anderson unconscious first and took his gun, then he forced her to get in the car with him. Mac, Stella and Hawkes are downstairs right now going over the scene. There was… there was no blood, Danny. She did what he asked and he's got no reason to hurt her. As far as we know… she's still alright."

Danny let out a slightly hysterical bark of laughter. "People who spend time with Delorsio don't stay alright for very long Don," Danny spat as he pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. "They end up dead. It doesn't matter whether or not he has a reason to hurt them – just look at Joanie Vanzella!"

Hoping to hide his apprehension from his friend, Flack lowered his eyes to the floor. He knew that Danny had a point. So far Delorsio had shown neither remorse nor restraint where his victims were concerned, doling out his vicious brand of justice regardless of whether his targets had truly wronged him or not.

A rustle of fabric and movement from the bed drew his attention back to Danny. He was trying to untangle himself from his blankets, tugging at the various wires and tubes connected to his body. But his actions were slow and clumsy thanks to the sedative effects of the medication the nurse had administered and it was easy enough for Flack to reach out and grab his wrists, holding them just tightly enough to keep Danny restrained.

"Get the fuck off of me!" Danny railed against his hands. "I need to get out of here!"

"Come on man," Flack said through gritted teeth as Danny landed a sharp elbow to his ribs. "Settle down, Messer. You're gonna hurt yourself."

"Fuck you!" Danny seethed, redoubling his efforts to get free only to be stymied once again. He let out a deflated moan before sinking back against the headboard, clutching at his side in obvious pain. "God dammit," he muttered, breathing deeply and trying to settle his rioting emotions. "He wants me," he lamented breathlessly. "He doesn't want her. She's got nothing to do with this! I can't let her get hurt. Maybe if I…"

"Don't even think about it, Messer," Flack interjected sharply. "If you wander off and offer yourself to him, what do you think is gonna happen? Huh? You think he's just gonna let her go?" He shook his head firmly. "I'm sorry, Danno. But I won't let you do it."

Danny's face crumbled and he hung his head, trying to hide the angry tears that had sprung to his eyes. "I never should have gone to her place," he mourned. "I should have left her alone. He never would have known… and she'd be alright. She'd be safe."

"Danny, listen to me," Flack said, releasing his hold on his friend and taking a seat on the edge of his bed. "I talked to Lindsay last night when you were in the Trauma Room… and from what I understand, it wouldn't have mattered if you'd left her alone. She's crazy about you, man. God knows why, but she is." He placed a comforting hand on Danny's shoulder, pleased to see a small smile tugging at the corners of Danny's lips. "This isn't some one-sided thing between you two," he continued. "She wanted to be with you just as much as you wanted to be with her, so you gotta stop beating yourself up. We need you at your best if you're gonna be able to help get her back, alright?"

Danny nodded his head, quickly swiping at his eyes. "What do you need me to do?"

"Your doctor is gonna be here in a few minutes to go over the results of your scan," Flack said. "And then I'm hoping we can get you out of here. Mac wants you back at the lab for now so we can keep an eye on you. And I have to admit, it's probably the safest place for you to be right now."

"I want in on this, Flack," Danny said with conviction in his voice. "I'm done sitting on the sidelines while everyone else works this case. I don't care if Mac says I'm too personally involved – I'm working this one whether he likes it or not."

"Yeah, he thought you might feel that way," Flack chuckled wryly. "He said as long as you are physically able to, he'll let you help – but only in the lab. You're not allowed in the field until we get this sick bastard under lock and key, understood?"

Grudgingly, Danny nodded his agreement. "Understood."

There was a soft knock on the door and both men looked up to see Dr. Halpern enter the room. She nodded at Flack who rose to his feet. "I'll be right outside, Danno. I brought you a change of clothes and when you're ready, we'll go."

With that, he turned on his heel and left the room, leaving Dr. Halpern alone with Danny to go over his results.

* * *

"I want Danny Messer… dead. I want to watch as his life slips away. I want him to pay for what he did to me. He stole my life from me and I've waited almost 20 years to return the favour." Lindsay's mouth went dry and she felt her hands begin to shake at the malicious little smile that crept across Eric Delorsio's face as he spoke to Flack. She looked around wildly, hoping for any sign that someone had seen what was happening and was going for help. But there was no one. It was business as usual as far as anyone inside the busy hospital was concerned. "I'll be in touch, detective. Until then, I think I'll take a little time to get to know his pretty girlfriend a bit better. Bye for now."

She shivered and her stomach turned when he stuck her phone into the front pocket of his hooded sweatshirt before he licked his lips and unabashedly raked his eyes up and down her body. And while her eyes frantically scanned the windows overlooking the parking lot for someone – anyone – that could help her, Delorsio slunk up beside her, grabbing a fistful of her hair and giving her head a vicious tug.

"What the fuck are you looking at?" he hissed in her ear. "No one's going to help you, now get in the fucking car!" He shoved her hard and she lost her balance, careening face first into the side of the vehicle, her forehead exploding in pain as she slid to the ground in a heap. She bit her lip, determined not to cry out. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

Delorsio pulled open the back door, again grasping her by the hair and heaving her up and into the car. She landed face-down on the cushioned seat and she heard the sound of a length of duct tape being torn from its roll before he grabbed her hands, pulling them roughly behind her back and coiling the tape tightly around her wrists. When he was done, he moved down to her legs but before he could get a proper grip on her, she kicked out hard, the sole of her foot colliding with what she could only assume was his stomach by the loud "oomph" she drew from him. She recoiled her leg, ready to lash out again when she heard the sound of his gun cocking inches from her ear.

"I'm gonna make you pay for that, you fucking little bitch," Delorsio wheezed, still struggling to catch his breath. "And I'm going to enjoy every last goddamn minute of it." He climbed into the backseat and she felt his knee digging into the small of her back as he held her down. She heard what she thought sounded like the cap being twisted from the top of a bottle and the last thing she remembered was the cloyingly sweet scent of the cloth he pushed against her face before her world faded to black.

* * *

Mac snapped his phone shut and rejoined the meeting taking place in the conference room. Four curious pairs of eyes watched as he took his seat and he smiled apologetically for interrupting.

"That was Flack," he said. "Danny's just signed his release papers and Don is going to bring him back here. I told him we were just going over the evidence we collected this morning and that I would catch him and Danny up later. So for now, we'll just keep going."

"H-how... um, how is he?" Adam asked timidly.

Mac let out a sigh and shook his head. "Flack says Danny took the news as well as can be expected. But he's hurting. He's upset, angry, he feels guilty and he's scared. Really scared. Not that I blame him. He's been chasing Lindsay since the day she got here and now that they've... well, Delorsio is a sick, unbalanced individual. We have to get to her. And fast."

"You knew about them?" Stella asked, her face a mask of astonishment. "But... last night, you... I didn't think..."

Mac smiled sadly. "I'm not stupid, Stella. I noticed a few days ago that something was different between them. They just seemed a little less... desperate. Calmer, I guess. Happier."

"You constantly amaze me, do you know that?" Stella remarked. With a shake of her head, she gathered her thoughts before picking up where she had left off when Mac re-entered the room.

"From the spacing of the skid marks I found beside the curb, it looks as though Delorsio took off pretty quickly in a compact car – possibly a sedan or a small station wagon," she said, gesturing to the image displayed on the screen mounted at the front of the conference room.

Hawkes nodded his head. "Well, that matches with what Anderson remembers," he said. "I talked to him while they were looking him over in the ER and he said he saw Delorsio drive up in a dark sedan, although that's hardly helpful in narrowing down our search – there must be literally millions of cars matching that description in the city."

"I ran the tire pattern through our database and came up with this," Stella continued, flashing the tire make and model on the screen. "The tire itself is fairly standard and the wear pattern is nothing to write home about, but the skid mark itself was very interesting. I found trace amounts of a unique mixture of gravel and silt embedded in the skids. I ran it through EDNA and she matched it to a quarry over in New Jersey – a quarry that has been sitting empty and out of business for nearly twenty years. Now, it's locked up tighter than a drum, and there's no way that this car could have gotten in or out so I've got a list of the last big projects that were commissioned from the quarry and I'm going to check them against any possible places that Delorsio might use as a hideout."

"Alright. Thanks, Stella," Mac said. "Anything else? Adam, you said you heard back from the specialist on that scrap of paper found in Trombino's pocket – anything helpful there?"

"Uh…" Adam nervously shuffled his papers into an untidy stack, nervous at suddenly finding himself the centre of attention. "Um, no. I mean, yes. But… no."

"Adam…" Mac's tone held a hint of impatience.

"Yeah, um… sorry Mac," Adam blustered. "Uh… what I meant was I got something… but it's not really helpful. At least not yet." He looked up from his mess of papers to see Mac staring back at him with his eyebrows raised expectantly. "Oh… right. Yeah, it said _Valhalla_."

"Valhalla?" Hawkes asked, his brows creased in confusion.

"Valhalla," Adam confirmed.

"What does that mean?" Stella inquired.

"I… have no idea," Adam finished lamely.

"Well we know what you'll be looking into for the rest of this morning, don't we?" Stella teased, giving Adam a friendly pat on the arm.

"And what about what you and Sid were working on earlier?" Mac pressed, eager to keep the meeting going. "Sid, you said that you and Adam found something?"

"Yes, we did," Sid said, snapping his glasses onto the bridge of his nose and peering down at his notes. "Now, we know that Delorsio's DNA wasn't a match to the women found buried in the empty lot beside Trombino's place. But if he didn't rape those women, then whoever did could still be out there. And that got me to thinking that it might be possible to find a match to other more recent rape cases. I mean, just because Delorsio was in prison doesn't necessarily mean that the man who attacked those women stopped, does it?"

"And did you find anything?" Mac asked.

"Sadly, no," Sid said. "Well, not at first. But then Adam had the idea to run the DNA against our entire database - not limiting the search to rape cases - and we came up with something interesting. Very interesting, actually. Take a look."

He motioned to Adam whose fingers flew across the keyboard of his laptop, bringing an image of the DNA breakdown of the rapist found on the bodies of the women Delorsio had buried. Then he pulled up another image for comparison.

"Whoa. We got alleles in common at all 13 loci," Hawkes said. He turned to Sid. "So… our rapist may not be in our system, but either his son or his father is." He glanced back at the screen and pointed to the second image. "Sid, whose DNA is that?"

Sid let out a troubled sigh and leaned back in his chair, unsnapping his spectacles and letting them hang around his neck.

"It's Tommy Vanzella's."

**

* * *

Dun dun dun! Oooh… the plot thickens!**

**I figured it was about time I spent some time on the case, so I apologize if this chapter seems like a lot of exposition. It's not easy to write exposition without making it too dry, and that's mostly the reason behind the massive delay between chapters. Oh, and I forgot to mention that once again, not an expert so... well, you now the drill.  
**

**I hope I've kept you on your toes here and that you are still interesting in this story, despite the ice age that seems to pass between updates. I'd love to know what you thought about this one, so hit that button on the bottom of the page if you'd like to leave a review!**

***rhymes***


	18. Bad to Worse

**A/N: Do not adjust your computer screens. This is an actual, real, honest-to-goodness update for Something Wicked This Way Comes. Can you believe it? I owe everyone out there who has been patiently waiting month after month for an update to this story an enormous apology. Parts of this have been written for ages but I just wasn't happy with the way it was coming together. I was agonizing over it so I figured I'd take a bit of a break and come back to it after a few days. But days turned into weeks, weeks into months... and by the time I was ready to start again life kind of came crashing down around me and I wasn't in the right frame of mind to go delving into the deepest dark of this story again.**

**I hope you all understand and are as excited to see this update as I am to finally be able to post it. I want to say a huge thank you to those of you who encouraged me to keep going with this story. All I can say is that I hope you're not disappointed and that you are still interested in seeing where this goes. If you haven't already, I would encourage you to revisit the last few chapters if not the whole story before reading this as I'm continuing right from where we left off. I hope it flows with the chapters before it and leaves you wanting more!**

**Warning****: This chapter gets pretty dark, so if you are squeamish or have any issues with violence or have an aversion to foul language I would advise you to skip this chapter. **

* * *

"I'm sorry… whose DNA is that?" Stella asked with a disbelieving shake of her head, her eyes wide as she glanced back and forth between the monitor and Sid Hammerback.

The ME sighed and fixed her with a world-weary gaze. "The one on the bottom belongs to Tommy Vanzella," he repeated. "And the one on the top was taken from the body of the last victim nearly twenty years ago. And from what these results tell us, the donor of that sample has a fraternal relationship with Tommy Vanzella – it's either his father or his son."

"And seeing as Tommy was only 30 when he died and these attacks began back in the early 80's…" Hawkes shrugged his shoulders and let out a sigh. "It's pretty much a given that we can rule out any son of his being the attacker, when Tommy was just a kid himself. So that leaves…"

"Tommy's father – Leo Vanzella," Stella finished. She rested her elbows on the table and buried her face in her hands as she tried to wrap her head around this information. From what Hawkes had told her after Danny had identified the pin on Trombino's lapel as one Leo Vanzella had given to his son, the boys had practically worshipped the ground he walked on. He was their hero; the kind of man that they all aspired to be. Her heart ached for what this information would do to Danny. Wasn't it enough that his childhood friends had been brutally murdered and Lindsay kidnapped? Now they had to tell him that the man he'd looked up to as a child might have led a double life? That he may have been a sadistic, twisted man that got his kicks raping and viciously murdering teenage girls?

"Stell? You okay?"

Stella looked up to see Adam staring back at her with concern etched into his face. "I'm fine," she replied with more confidence than she felt. "I just can't believe it. It doesn't make sense. Why wouldn't Delorsio have just told the police about Vanzella's role in all this when he had the chance? Why would he choose 19 years in prison rather than point the finger at the man behind it all?"

The team shook their collective heads, all of them stumped. Finally Mac snapped out of his thoughtful daze.

"Okay, so here's what's going to happen; Hawkes, I want you to find out everything you can about any possible relationship between Delorsio and Leo Vanzella. I want to know if we're just chasing shadows here or if we're really on to something. Stella, we need to track down where that gravel sample came from. It's the best lead we have so far on where Lindsay may have been taken. And Adam," he turned to the young lab tech, "You keep digging into the significance of Valhalla; what does it mean? There's got to be a reason that word was found in Sal Trombino's pocket. Delorsio wouldn't have left it for us to find if it didn't have some significance."

"You got it boss," Adam said. The team stood from the table, each of them heading off to take on their assigned tasks. Only Sid Hammerback remained behind with Mac, lurking in the doorway as if unsure whether he should stay or go.

"What's up Sid?" Mac asked, steepling his fingers together and resting his elbows on the table. "You look like you've got something to say."

The silver-haired ME opened his mouth as if to speak, then snapped it shut again as though he'd thought better of it. He repeated these same actions a few times before it appeared he'd made up his mind and he pulled out a chair and sat down next to Mac.

"What about Danny?" he asked.

"What about him?"

"Mac, you have to realize how information like this could affect him. From what I understand, the man was almost like a second father to him growing up; he idolized him. Imagine how it would feel to find out someone you trusted, admired - probably even loved – was capable of something like this?"

"You don't think I should tell him," Mac said.

"That's not what I'm saying," Sid corrected, leaning back in his chair and fixing Mac with a serious gaze. "I'm just saying that, considering the circumstances, you might want to think long and hard about _when_ you tell him. He's just gotten out of the hospital, Mac. He's already grieving for Tommy and Joanie, he's worried sick about Lindsay, and he's trying to hold it all together while he's still barely recovered from his own attack last night. And all of that is only going to be exacerbated by the concussion." He tore his gaze away from Mac and fixated on wiping the lenses of his snap-apart glasses with the hem of his scrubs, his expression thoughtful. "I think the world of Danny, don't get me wrong," he said. "He's a fine young man, but he can be a bit impetuous at times. Sometimes that's a good thing; being able to think quickly on your feet can save your life in certain situations. In others, however…" Sid trailed off. His glasses now clean, he turned his attention back to Mac. "At this point, all we have is one sample that could possibly belong to Leo Vanzella and places him near the final victim at her time of death. It looks pretty damning, I realize that… but I think that until we know for sure that the sample actually belongs to Leo Vanzella and that it implicates him in the rapes…"

Mac nodded his understanding, not needing Sid to finish his thought to catch his meaning. "I'll think about it."

Having said his piece, Sid smiled at Mac and stood. "I'll be down in the morgue if you need me."

"Thanks, Sid. I'll keep you posted."

As the lanky, grey-haired ME disappeared down the hall, Mac stood and began to gather his files before heading back to his office.

* * *

Two figures emerged from the elevator and began making their way down the slick marble hallway. Flack walked briskly, pausing when he realized that Danny's pace had slowed and he was lagging behind.

"You okay, buddy?" Flack asked as Danny shuffled slowly toward him. "You wanna lie down for a few minutes?"

"I'm fine," Danny replied shortly. "I wanna get caught up on what's going on with this case. You talked to Mac – have they found anything on Delorsio? Do they know where Lindsay is?"

Flack shook his head as he fell into step with Danny, slowing his pace to match that of his friend's. "I don't know," he admitted. "They were just about to go over the evidence when I talked to Mac, and he said he'd fill us in when we got here." He cast a wary glance at his companion, frowning when he noticed Danny was grimacing with practically every step. "You sure you don't wanna lie down?" he asked again. "Dr. Halpern wasn't too happy about letting you out of the hospital at all and I had to promise I'd keep an eye on you and make sure you don't overdo it…"

"No. I said I'm fine," Danny repeated with a vehement shake of his head. He winced at the pain his sudden movement caused and stopped in his tracks, groaning and pressing the heels of his hands against his temples, squeezing his eyes shut. Flack's arm shot out to support Danny who was wobbling unsteadily on his feet. "Shit… ow."

Flack felt a wave of concern for his friend. Dr. Halpern had given Danny a reluctant all-clear to leave the hospital after his CT scan came back clean, but she had taken Flack aside and warned him that her patient was to take it easy. Despite the fact that there was no significant brain damage, he still had a concussion and the after-affects of the injury may continue to manifest themselves over the next few days. She'd given Flack some literature to go over and told him to keep a careful eye out for any of the tell-tale symptoms, the most indicative of which were extreme fatigue, loss of appetite, emotional outbursts, confusion, memory loss, irritability, and of course pain.

"Okay. Here's what we're gonna do," Flack said, displeased to see at least three of the symptoms already beginning to manifest themselves in Danny. He gently guided his friend down the hall. "I'm gonna get you settled on the couch in your office, then I'll grab you an ice-pack for your head. You're gonna take it easy just like the doctor ordered and I'll go check in with Mac and let you know what I find out."

"Jesus, Flack. You're worse than my mother," Danny grumbled. "How many times do I have to tell you that I'm fine?"

"I'm not buying it, Dan," Flack said, his voice taking on a stern, no-nonsense tone. "You're not fine. You're about as far from fine as they come." They'd arrived at the office Danny usually shared with Lindsay and Stella, and Flack pulled open the heavy glass door and steered Danny inside and over to the couch. "Dr. Halpern put me in charge of you, and that means that like it or not, you gotta do what I say, or I swear to God I'll take you right back to that hospital and have them strap you to the bed if that's what it takes to get you to take it easy. It's you're choice, Danno; this couch or a hospital bed. What's it gonna be?"

Danny glared venomously at him but his anger quickly gave way to exhaustion as his knees buckled beneath him and he sunk down onto the couch. Flack tried to help him get settled, but Danny smacked his hands away. "I can do it myself," he muttered irritably. "I'm not a fucking child."

Flack resisted the urge to roll his eyes and tell him that if that was the case he'd better stop acting like one. Instead he stepped back and watched as Danny gingerly stretched out the length of the couch and draped his forearm over his eyes, letting out a deep sigh. "I'm sorry, Don," he said quietly. "I know you're just trying to help. But I… I just can't do nothing when I know she's out there somewhere with that fucking lunatic." His voice broke and Flack's heart sank as he watched his friend's face crumble and he let out a choking sob. "All I can think about is what he's going to do to her, Flack. What he might have already done to her."

"I know this ain't easy, man," Flack said, taking a seat on the edge of Danny's desk. "But you gotta know that everyone is doing everything in their power to find her."

"Yeah, I know," Danny mumbled miserably.

Reaching out to pat his friend consolingly on the knee, Flack rose to his feet. "I'm gonna go get you that ice," he said. "Be right back."

Scrubbing his hands over his face, Flack walked the length of the hall and pushed open the door to the break room. He rifled through the freezer, pulling out a gel Ice-Pak and scrunching it between his hands to loosen it up. Grabbing a handful of paper towels from the roll on the counter, he wrapped them around the ice and headed back toward his patient.

* * *

The first thing Lindsay noticed when she came to was the overwhelmingly musty scent of mould and mildew. The cement floor beneath her was damp and cold and Lindsay shivered, trying to curl her body into a tight ball in a feeble attempt to keep herself warm; not an easy feat, seeing as her hands had been handcuffed behind her – with her own cuffs, no doubt - the chain linking the cuffs together tethered to something hard and cold and metal. A radiator or an exposed pipe, she supposed.

She had no idea where she was or even how long she had been here, but the ache in her shoulders from her uncomfortable position told her she'd been here long enough. Her head was throbbing from her collision with the side of the car and she felt slightly nauseous from the after-affects of the chloroform Delorsio had used to sedate her.

She cautiously lifted her head and looked at her surroundings. She was in a small, dingy room, the lone window set high on the far wall letting in a thin sliver of sunlight through a crack in the filthy curtains. The wall below the window was stained a dark brown from years of water seeping through the frame and the cement floor was covered in a thick, matted rug that must have been a rich tan colour once upon a time, but was now spotted a filthy greyish green. In one corner of the room, a grubby mattress had been shoved against the wall, covered with a set of sheets tinged yellow with age. Across from that sat a sturdy straight-backed wooden chair. Her insides sank when she saw that the chair had been bolted into the floor.

Getting herself as comfortable as possible, she lay on the floor and wracked her brains, trying to think of a way out of her current situation. She knew it was nearly hopeless – Delorsio had her cuffed to the wall, she was unarmed, she had no means of communicating with the outside world and even if she did, she hadn't the faintest clue where she was.

She wondered what the team was doing to find her. Surely Flack would have reported what he had overheard to Mac immediately. And in turn, Mac would have called in the cavalry to get the scene processed right away; probably by Stella and Hawkes, Lindsay guessed. But what would they have found? Delorsio had been so careful up until now. He'd not left behind a single clue as to his identity at any of his previous crime scenes and Lindsay thought it was unlikely that he would slip up now.

Despite her natural inclination to stay positive and find the good in any situation, Lindsay felt the gloom of hopelessness beginning to settle in around her. It was so unfair; she had been so happy only a few short hours ago. Or perhaps it was days? It was hard to tell with her sense of time being skewed as it was. She didn't think she had slept for that long; she knew that chloroform could knock a person out cold in a matter of seconds, but the sedative tended to be short lived. She had hit her head, though… Suddenly she had a new appreciation for how frustrated and confused Danny must have felt when he had awoken in the hospital after being pulled out of the Avalanche.

Tears began to sting behind her eyes. _Danny_. What must he be going through? Did he even know she was missing? Had they told him? She thought about the conversation they'd shared in the hospital about the last time she'd been in danger. She knew Danny had been beside himself and that was before either of them had really begun to understand their feelings for one another. Everyone on the team knew how impulsive he could be; although he'd gotten better at controlling his emotions over the past few months, she worried that if he knew he'd go storming off on his own to track her down, never minding the potential danger to himself. And although she wanted nothing more than to have him find her, to hold her tight just as he had after her brief stint undercover, the thought of Delorsio getting his hands on Danny and finishing what he'd started made her stomach turn.

She pressed her forehead against the floor, trying to find some relief from the pounding between her temples. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, willing the painful knot in her stomach to go away and for her head to stop spinning. Upon hearing footsteps approaching on the other side of the door she tried to relax her body as best she could and feign sleep in the hope that if Delorsio walked in and thought she was still unconscious she could buy herself some more time to think.

The door opened and the footsteps came closer. She could smell him now; the faint scent of smoke still lingering on his clothing from the explosion of the Avalanche mixed with a disconcertingly strong dose of alcohol.

"Wakey, wakey," Delorsio slurred. She heard his knees crack as he crouched down beside her. Without preamble he roughly shoved her over onto her side and she bit back a wail of pain when his fist landed a hard punch in her stomach, knocking the wind right out of her.

Not bothering to give her a moment to recover, he hit her again and again; the flurry of blows landing in the same exact spot and when he finally sat back on his haunches to survey his handiwork, Lindsay moaned and curled into herself, pulling her knees as close to her chest as she could, trying to protect herself from further attack.

"Told you I'd make you pay," Delorsio sneered at her. "That's for what you did to me in the car, you little bitch."

Delorsio straightened up and stumbled over to the chair, sitting down heavily on the seat. Though her eyes were blurred by tears of pain, Lindsay could see that he carried something in his other hand, something that she instantly recognized. Her purse. He opened it up and began pawing through the contents, flipping open her wallet and pocketing the twenty he found there before tossing her wallet to the floor. He continued to rifle through her things, tossing aside the basic necessities of every woman's purse; a few loose tampons, a compact, a packet of tissues, her lip gloss. None of them held his attention for long and soon he cast her purse aside, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and sneering at her.

"You're a long way from home, girly. A looooong way from home, Detective Lindsay Monroe from Montana." He giggled and sat back, slouching casually in his chair. "I wonder what brought you all the way here to New York City," he mused, staring pointedly at her. "Did you come for the big city lights? Huh? Or maybe you wanted to play cops and robbers with the big boys, is that it?"

Lindsay lay motionless on the floor, her body still reeling from his earlier attack. Her guts churned and she felt as though her heart would soon beat a hole in the floor. Delorsio was a dangerous man at the best of times, but at this moment in time, he was absolutely terrifying. She'd seen it before in countless cases; a sadistic man driven to new extremes thanks to the inebriating effects of alcohol.

"Or maybe you came here to get away," Delorsio said. Lindsay's attention was drawn to his voice. The slurring, the giddiness was gone and his voice had taken on a low, sinister tone. Predatory. Menacing. "I bet that's it, isn't it? You had to get away from them, didn't you? From those girls, the ones who died. Do you still hear them crying for you, Lindsay Monroe from Montana? Do you still hear them screaming?" He stared her down and Lindsay was ashamed of herself for averting her eyes from his piercing gaze.

"You didn't think I knew who you were, did you?" he asked. "But I do. I know all about you. I'm very careful that way. It's always better to know your adversary, so I spent a long time finding out everything I could about Danny Messer. And when I saw the two of you together, I knew I'd have to find out all about you just in case I had to use you to get to him. And I am going to get to him. And guess what? You're gonna help me!"

"F-fuck you," Lindsay managed to croak through her pain. "Go to hell."

Delorsio bestowed a sickly smile on her. "Tell me, Lindsay Monroe from Montana," he asked, pulling a hip flask from his pocket and taking a long draught, "The other night when he showed up at your place; was that him looking for a little action, or did you put out the booty call?" His eyes were agleam with malicious delight and he lowered the flask from his lips. "My money's on you. I bet you called him up and told him that you needed a fat cock inside you, and good old Danny boy was only to happy to oblige. Well I got good news for you, sweetheart. I got something here for you that's just aching to get up inside that sweet little pussy of yours."

Lindsay felt bile rising in the back of her throat as she watched Delorsio fondle his crotch, his eyes raking over her body as he did so. "Yeah, you're gonna love what I got for you, girly. I'm gonna show you a good time."

He got to his feet and began walking toward where Lindsay was lying prone on the floor. Once again he crouched down beside her. "I saw Messer groping your ass on his parents' front porch. I'm a titty man myself. I like a girl with a nice big rack." He reached out and grabbed the front of Lindsay's shirt in both hands, wrenching it hard and sending buttons flying off in all directions, exposing her bra. "Hmm... you're a little small for my taste. A little old, too." He leered at her, sending a chill of terror down her spine. "I like 'em young. Inexperienced. I like to get 'em before they know what they like. Nothing worse than a bitch telling me to touch her there or do it like that, as if I don't know what the fuck I'm doing." With the tips of his fingers Delorsio explored her exposed torso, poking and prodding around the red welts that had emerged where he'd landed his punches. "But, I guess beggars can't be choosers, right? Ain't that how the saying goes?" He roughly squeezed her breasts and Lindsay bit her lip to keep herself from screaming in pain when he gave her nipples a rough twist. She was disgusted to see the evidence of Delorsio's arousal protruding against his pants and suddenly she couldn't hold it in any more and she turned her head and wretched loudly, expelling the contents of her stomach onto the floor and Delorsio's shoe.

"Oh, you little bitch!" he roared, falling backward and landing hard on his ass in an attempt to get out of range of her expulsion. "These are new, you fucking whore! Fuck!" He kicked out his leg, catching Lindsay hard in the chest. She felt the wind leave her and she gasped to catch her breath, rasping and wheezing in agony while Delorsio ripped a strip off her blouse and used it to wipe off his shoe.

Once done, he knelt on the floor beside her, grabbing her hair by the roots and forcing her into an awkward sitting position. He lowered his lips to her ear, his voice soft and menacing. "You fucking ruin my new shoes? You throw up all over me when I'm trying to show you a good time? That's gonna cost ya, you little bitch. Playtime is over."

* * *

**Initially it wasn't my intention to leave this chapter on a cliffhanger, but it seems like as good a place to stop as any. I have parts of the next few chapters written and I am just working out how to piece them all together. I am making no promises as to when they will be posted, although my hope is sooner rather than later.**

**Reviews are always welcome and would go a long way toward letting me know if people are still interested in seeing more from Something Wicked.**


	19. Photographs and Memories

**A/N: Oh. My. God. Can it be? Is it true? An update on this story after only... nah. Can't be.**

**But it is! Yay! The muse has returned and she's very bossy. I was in the middle of the next chapter of High School Daze and she suddenly stomped on the breaks and changed directions, forcing me to write this instead. Hope that's okay.**

**Thanks to all who left reviews for Chapter 18. It's so good to know that there are still a few of you out there who want to see more from this story! You guys really and truly rock. :)**

* * *

Letting out a groan of frustration, Adam rubbed his bleary eyes with his fists before raising his arms above his head, stretching out his aching back and shoulders. He had been staring at his computer screen for so long that his eyes were starting to cross. Mac had assigned him the task of figuring out what the word printed on the piece of paper found in Sal Trombino's pocket meant and he'd been at it all morning. _Valhalla_. After hours of searching through databases, Adam was no further to finding a conclusive solution. There were literally thousands upon thousands of references to Valhalla, ranging from the folkloric Nordic hall of the gods to record labels, restaurants, clothing lines, even a funeral home. Nothing that seemed even remotely related to the case in any way, shape or form.

He glanced over at the other occupant of the computer lab. Sheldon Hawkes looked just as frustrated and stumped as Adam felt. His brow was set in a deep furrow of concentration and Adam noticed the distinctive slump of defeat in his co-worker's shoulders.

"How ya doing, Doc?" he asked, pushing his rolling chair back from his desk and wheeling across the office to where Hawkes was sitting.

Hawkes inhaled deeply, shaking his head and turning to Adam with a tired smile. "I'm still holding out hope that the answer is just gonna leap off the page if I stare at it a little longer."

"I hear you," Adam said with a nod of his head. He scrubbed his hands over his face and let out a sigh. "So, nothing yet? No connection between Delorsio and Leo Vanzella?"

Hawkes leaned back in his chair and stretched much the same way Adam had done only moments earlier. "Nah. I mean besides the fact that they lived in the same neighbourhood. I'm assuming that they were at least aware of one another; from what Danny says, I get the feeling that everyone in their neighbourhood kind of lives in each other's pocket. Vanzella owned a store so it's not unlikely that Delorsio went in there from time to time... but other than that? There's not much to go on."

His expression turned thoughtful for a moment. "Well... that's not exactly true," he amended. "There is this... but I have no idea what it means."

Hawkes handed Adam a sheaf of paper. It was a printout of Eric Delorsio's bank account statement from 1987. "See here? It's a direct deposit for his payroll. Apparently he worked for some company called VDC... whatever that is."

"VDC?" Adam asked, leafing through the papers and looking at the regular deposits that went into Delorsio's account. "Hmm... you got any idea what that stands for?"

Hawkes shook his head. "No. But then there's this." He handed Adam a second printout, this time of Leo Vanzella's account from the same year. "See... he's getting deposits from that company too. But they're not payroll. They're coming in quarterly instead of bi-weekly..." He frowned, pursing his lips while he thought about a possible connection.

"Quarterly?" Adam clarified. "So... what kind of things pay you quarterly?"

Hawkes shrugged. "I dunno. Investments, maybe?"

"Investments..." Adam repeated thoughtfully. His gaze shifted back and forth between the two documents. "Maybe... maybe Vanzella owned some shares in the company that Delorsio worked for."

"That's possible," Hawkes mused. "VDC... if he was an owner of the company, maybe it could be Vanzella... uh, something... Corporation? VDC?"

Adam nodded his head. "Could be. Just a sec." He rolled his chair back over to his computer and began typing. "I'm gonna run a search for it. Let's see if something comes up."

He heard Hawkes get up from his chair and soon the former ME was leaning over Adam's shoulder.

"I'm running an open search for the keywords _Vanzella _and _Corporation_," Adam muttered as his fingers flew over the keys. "Aaaaand... nothing." He banged his fist against the desktop. "Crap."

"Try searching for _Vanzella _and _Company_," Hawkes suggested, and Adam quickly acquiesced. He hit the enter key to start the search and within seconds the screen blinked back at them. Empty.

"Shit. Another big, fat zero," Hawkes muttered, thumping the back of Adam's chair in frustration.

Adam sat staring at the screen, his fingers beating out a steady beat on his desk. VDC... _VDC_... What could it stand for? On a whim, he moved his fingers to the keys and deleted out his previous search query. _What the hell? It's worth a shot_, he thought. He entered new search parameters and once again hit enter, waiting with anxious anticipation for the results. The little hourglass of his cursor twirled around while his request was processed and suddenly there was a beep. The search was finished.

"Um... Doc?"

Hawkes looked up from where he'd once again slumped in his seat.

"What, Adam?"

"I think I got something."

* * *

Stella snapped her cell phone shut angrily, muttering a Grecian curse under her breath. She was at a standstill with her evidence. The list of possible sources of the gravel found in the tire tracks outside of the hospital was just too long and every time she thought she'd made some headway, she found herself face to face with another dead end.

She needed a break. She was getting frustrated and that wasn't doing anybody any good. She was alone in the trace lab and so she decided to take a quick trip to the break room for a cup of coffee and maybe one of the protein bars that she'd asked Mac to keep in stock for those days when staff members just didn't get a chance to get out of the office to grab a proper meal.

With a heavy heart, she remembered the last time she'd pawned one of the tasteless bars off on someone. It had been Lindsay's first day on the job and Stella had taken pity on the young rookie, offering her a few words of advise on how to keep her head above water in the busy lab.

"_My feet haven't touched the ground since I clocked in," the pretty, petite brunette admitted sheepishly while mopping up the tea she'd spilled on the counter in her haste to get back to work._

"_Well, welcome to the crime lab," Stella replied, her tone brusque. _

_The younger woman smiled nervously at her. "In Montana they gave us breathing breaks."_

_Remembering her own first day and how completely overwhelmed she'd been by the workload and the horror of the case that had landed on her desk, Stella's expression softened. "Let me give you a little tip," she said, pulling open the small drawer beneath the coffee maker and extracting one of the foil-wrapped bars. "Protein bars, comfortable shoes, and at least four hours of sleep a night."_

Stella sighed sadly as she pushed open the door of the trace lab and stepped into the hall. Since that first fateful meeting, Lindsay had proven herself to be a diligent and talented detective and CSI... and an even better friend. It was lonely, being a woman in a male-dominated environment. Of course there had been Aiden, but she'd always been one of the guys, preferring to pal around with Danny and Flack, leaving Stella to fend for herself. It hadn't been until Lindsay had arrived that Stella realized how much she cherished having another woman to work with; a woman who wasn't averse to the occasional girl's night out after a long day, or sneaking off for a quick trip to Barney's for some shopping on their lunch break.

Lost in her musings, she didn't see the figure striding purposefully down the hall until she had all but crashed into him.

"Jesus! I'm so sorry, Don," she mumbled as Flack reached out to steady her with one hand.

"No harm done, Stell," Flack replied. He smiled tiredly at her. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, I'm fine," she said, waving off his concern. "I was just thinking, that's all. Wasn't looking where I was going." She took a moment to look at Flack, noticing the wad of paper towels in his hand. "You spill something?" she asked.

"Huh?" Flack looked confused, then a light bulb went on in his head and he held up the packet of towels. "Nah. Ice pak for Danny." He pointed down the hall to the dimly lit office where Stella could just make out a figure lying prone on the couch. "His head's bothering him and the doctor said that ice might help."

"How is he?" Stella asked quietly.

"He's doing alright, all things considered," Flack replied guardedly.

Stella's lips thinned into a hard line and she fixed Flack with a pointed stare. "How is he _really_?" she asked, with a heavy emphasis on the last word.

Flack grimaced, his mouth down turned into a deep frown. "Honestly? Physically, I think he'll be fine eventually. But as for the other stuff..." He broke off, shaking his head sadly. "He's a wreck, Stella. I don't know what's eating at him more; the guilt or the worry. He's beating himself up over this. Thinks it's his fault Lindsay got taken." He ran his hand through his usually immaculate dark hair, leaving it standing out from his head in awkward angles. "We've all seen what Delorsio can do - Tommy and Joanie's basement wasn't exactly a picnic and Trombino literally got the life beaten out of him... plus, Danny's been there, you know? Delorsio had him and he got away. Now the sick fucker's pissed off and Danny's thinking he's gonna take it out on Lindsay."

Stella's stomach lurched unpleasantly. She'd seen the carnage in Tommy's basement. She'd also seen the files from the original murders. The girls in Delorsio's care had suffered terribly at his hands before he'd finally put them out of their misery and it chilled her to the bone to think that the same fate might befall her friend.

"Have you talked to Mac?" she asked, suddenly realizing that Flack must have just gotten back from the hospital with Danny and probably wasn't aware of the morning's developments.

"No. Why?"

Stella grimaced. "I think you might want to go talk to him. We've come across some new evidence that's... well, it's got the potential to really do a number on Danny."

Flack let out a groan and palmed his hand down his face. "Fuck. Alright, I'm just gonna go check on Messer, then I'll catch up with Mac."

"Here, let me," Stella said, reaching to take the ice from him. "Come on, I'm dying for a distraction and I want to make sure Danny's okay. He's my friend too."

After a moment's hesitation, Flack handed over the bundle of paper towels. "Just make sure he takes it easy, okay?"

Stella raised her right hand and placed her left, clutching the mess of paper towels, over her heart. "Girl Scout's honour," she quipped. She gave Flack a comforting pat on the arm before she set off down the hall. She paused outside the door, knocking softly on the glass before pushing it open.

"Hey," she whispered when Danny turned his head to see who had entered. "I hope I'm not bothering you."

Danny shook his head, his eye twitching in a flicker of pain before he resumed his former position, facing away from her.

"Do you mind if I come in?"

"It's your office too, Stell," he reminded her quietly.

Figuring that was the closest thing to an invitation as she was going to get, Stella slipped into the room and pulled up a chair beside the couch. She sat down and placed her hand on Danny's shoulder, giving him what she hoped was a comforting squeeze. He made no effort to shrug her off and they remained that way for a moment while Stella took in his appearance. He still had the bandage on his forehead and the cuts and bruises on his face still looked raw and ugly. But it was his eyes that really made Stella's inside burn with anger for the man who had done this to him; who was still tormenting him indirectly. His eyes were sad and listless and filled with fear.

"I brought you some ice," she said lamely.

Danny glanced at the offered bundle in her hand. "Thanks," he said, taking it from her and pressing gingerly it to the side of his head. He closed his eyes and sunk back into the plush cushions of the couch. "Flack talking to Mac?"

Stella nodded her head, then realized that with his eyes closed, Danny couldn't see her. "Yeah," she answered. "I'm sure he'll be in here in a few minutes to go over everything with you."

With one hand she gently stroked Danny's hair, being mindful of his wounds while with the other she took Danny's hand in hers. She felt something in his palm and before he had a chance to react, she extracted a folded picture from his hand. It was heavily creased, its corners dog-eared, and it was obvious that he'd taken it out many times in the past before carefully folding it and returning it from wherever it was that he kept it hidden. She looked around and noticed his wallet lying on the floor beside the couch. _Bingo_, she thought.

She glanced up at Danny's face; he was watching her warily but made no move to stop her from unfolding the picture, which she did. Smoothing out its crinkled surface over her knee, she instantly recognized the faces in the photo as belonging to Danny and Lindsay, but the setting was unfamiliar. Tall, rugged mountains dwarfed the couple who stood on the back of a beat-up old pickup truck in the middle of a wide expanse of golden wheat. Lindsay's brown eyes were alight with unbridled joy, her arms flung wide and an enormous smile spread across her face while Danny stood by her side grinning at her antics.

"Is that... wheat?" Stella asked.

"Yeah," Danny replied, his voice low and husky with emotion. He cleared his throat before he continued. "Lindsay... she wanted proof that I'd actually seen a wheatfield."

Stella chuckled. "Where did you two find a wheatfield in New Yor..." Stella trailed off, realizing suddenly dawning on her. "Danny, where was this taken?"

But Danny wasn't listening. His expression faraway, he took the picture back from Stella and stared at the happy image, and she knew he was remembering...

-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-

"_Come on, Montana," Danny whined as Lindsay dragged him down the steps of the courthouse. "Please? I'm so tired."_

_She stopped on the bottom step, turning to face him. He still had a tight hold of her hand and she gently ran her thumb across his palm, flashing him a beguiling smile. "I just want to show you something," she said. "It won't take long. Then you can drag your lazy ass to bed."_

_Danny let his head fall back and he uttered out a groan of defeat. How was he supposed to say no when she looked at him like that? "Fine," he grumbled. "But this better be worth it, or else I'm gonna make your life miserable when you get back to New York."_

_Lindsay grinned victoriously and reaffirmed her grip on his hand, tugging him across the parking lot. She stopped in front of a pickup that had obviously seen better days, inserting her key in the lock and pulling open the driver's side door._

"_Get in and slide over," she said, giving his shoulder a shove. Danny rolled his eyes. If anyone ever knew how he let her boss him around, he'd never live it down. He obediently heaved himself into the seat and slid across until he was sitting on the passenger's side. He buckled his seat belt while Lindsay climbed in behind the wheel and put the key into the ignition. The truck rumbled to life, sputtering and shuddering pathetically._

"_We better not be going far," Danny drawled. "This hunk of junk doesn't look like it could make it across the street." _

_It was Lindsay's turn to roll her eyes. "Didn't your mother ever tell you not to judge a book by it's cover?" she challenged, sliding her own seatbelt across her body and snapping it into place._

_Danny laughed. "Yeah, but she also said I should never leave the house without clean underwear... and here I am 3,000 miles from home without so much as a toothbrush."_

_Lindsay paused with her hand on the gearshift and turned to face him. Her brown eyes which, until recently had been void and empty, were suddenly full of emotion. She raised her hand to his face, her palm warm against his cheek. She skimmed her thumb across his lips and Danny fought the urge to suddenly lunge forward and kiss her, although he wanted to so very badly. She'd said she wasn't ready and he'd promised himself he'd wait until she was. He was here as her friend, nothing more. Although, back at the courthouse..._

"_I'm sorry I never told you," she whispered. "I wanted to. I just..."_

"_Hey, forget about it," Danny interrupted, pressing his finger to her lips. He suddenly realized he didn't need to know why he hadn't told her. All that mattered was that he was here, that he was with her. "I'm just glad you're okay." He smiled, taking her hand from his face in his and pressing a chaste kiss to the backs of her fingers. "You did real good in there today, kiddo. I know it can't have been easy, but you got through it. It's all over now."_

_Nodding, a smile lit Lindsay's face. "It's over," she repeated. "It's really over."_

_Danny returned her smile. The urge to kiss her was almost overpowering him now, so he adjusted himself in his seat, facing forward and releasing her hand. "Um... so, you wanted to show me something?"_

_A little over half an hour later, Danny felt a hand on his shoulder gently shaking him awake._

"_Danny? Wake up." Lindsay's voice was soft in his ear. "Come on. We're here!"_

_Cracking open his eyes, Danny was surprised to find that he had fallen asleep with his face pressed against the cool glass of the passenger side window. His glasses were askew on his face and he was horrified to find the remnants of saliva clinging to the corner of his mouth and smeared slightly on the glass. He surreptitiously wiped at his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket; he hoped Lindsay hadn't noticed. Then another thought occurred to him. Oh God... had he been snoring?_

_If Lindsay had noticed, she wasn't making any mention of it. She had already climbed out of the truck and was wading through a waist-high sea of wheat, her fingers skimming over the tops of the golden stalks. _

"_Isn't it beautiful?" she called out, turning to face him. _

_Danny peered out of the open door of the truck in absolute awe. He'd never seen a space so big that was just... empty. No buildings. No cars. No people. Just wheat for as far as the eye could see. It was an alien sight for Danny who had grown up in a place where people were piled on top of one another and you had to fight for your tiny piece of the city. There was no sound save for the rustle of the field and Lindsay's voice urging him to join her. _

_He carefully alighted from the truck, his feet sinking into the soft earth beneath him. He watched Lindsay as she twirled around in front of him. He didn't think he'd ever seen her so carefree. Even before... when she hadn't had the burden of the trial looming over her, she'd been more reserved and he wondered if anyone of their friends and coworkers in New York had seen this side of her before. He secretly hoped that he was the only one, that she had saved this side of herself just for him._

"_Beats the New York skyline, no?" she asked, throwing his own words from nearly a year ago back at him._

"_Hey, watch it," Danny laughed, leaning back against the side of the truck, content to observe Lindsay in her element. "It's not bad... but I mean, come on! This is just dirty old nature. New York is on an entirely different plane. There's no comparison."_

_Lindsay stopped in mid-twirl and narrowed her eyes playfully at him. "Oh?" she queried, raising one eyebrow. "So... when you compared them it was okay, but when I do it, suddenly we're talking apples and oranges, huh?"_

"_Yeah. Or pears and bananas. Whatever you want, Montana," Danny shrugged._

"_You're impossible," Lindsay declared, throwing her arms in the air in exasperation. She stalked toward him, giving his shoulder a playful shove before she reached into the cab of the truck, pulling open the glove compartment and grabbing a small, silver camera from within._

_Danny watched her walk over to a nearby fence post. She fiddled with the buttons before placing the camera on top of the post and racing back to where Danny stood. "Come on!" she said, grabbing his hand and hauling him around to the back of the truck. She heaved on the gate and then scrambled onto the truck bed, turning and holding her hand out to Danny. "Come on, Messer. Move it! It's on a timer!"_

_He accepted her help and joined her in the back of the truck. She turned to face the camera, spreading her arms wide and letting out a peal of laughter. "Beat this, New York!" she yelled. _

_Danny couldn't help but laugh along with her and he was only vaguely aware of the flash of the camera as it captured that one, joyful moment, preserving it perfectly on the film coiled inside. _

"_You done?" Danny teased. "Got that out of your system?"_

_Lindsay lowered her arms and turned to smile at him. "For now," she replied. She gazed out at the field again, at the mountains that loomed, dark and rugged, in the distance. "I really love it here," she sighed, leaning against Danny's side. "But there's just something missing here, you know? Or at least there was until today."_

_Danny wanted to say so many things to her. He wanted to tell her that New York hadn't been the same without her. That he'd missed her in ways he just didn't know how to say. Instead, he slid his arm around her slim shoulders and pulled her into a tight hug, vowing to himself that he was never going to let her get away again._

-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-

Stella smiled down at her slumbering friend. He had dozed off sometime in the past few minutes and Stella knew that he needed his rest. Even in sleep, his expression was still troubled and she knew that even in his dreams he couldn't escape from the anxiety of the events of the past few days.

She gently pried the photograph from Danny's hand, smiling sadly at the happy scene before she carefully folded it and placed it back in his wallet. She didn't want someone else walking in finding the picture, when it was clearly something very private and personal to Danny. She wondered if any of the other members of the team were aware that he had made the trip to Montana. She thought not. The lab's gossip mill was notorious, and if anyone knew, word would have spread like wild fire and she was sure she would have heard something before now.

Stella bent and placed a kiss to Danny's cheek. "We'll get her back, Danny," she whispered. She removed Danny's glasses from his face, placing them on his desk along with his wallet then she quietly crept from the room, closing the door softly behind her.

* * *

**I know, I know. We didn't get any Lindsay in this one. But fear not, there will be more on her predicament in the next chapter. But like I said, the muse was very bossy about this chapter. Danny's little flashback to Montana was one that I came up with a long, long time ago but hadn't used yet because I just couldn't make it work with the story. **

**I hope it works here, and that you enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. I'd love to hear from you, so please don't be shy!**

**rhymes**


	20. A Dark, Dark Place

**A/N: Hey guys. New chapter for you! I told you I was working on it! ;)**

**So… I have a confession to make. I got myself royally stuck at the end of the last chapter, which is the main reason for the huge gap in updates for this story. For those of you who are fellow writers, you'll know what I mean. Sometimes you end a chapter with the best of intentions… ideas swirling in your head for all the wonderful things that are going to happen next… but when you actually sit down to write them you end up drawing a big fat blank. It's not quite writer's block because the ideas are there… but it's just as frustrating, if not more so.**

**It wasn't the case necessarily that was presenting the problem. I was just having a hard time with what was going to happen to Lindsay. There have been some phenomenally great stories out there recently revolving around Lindsay in danger (webdlfan's _Across the Line_ and CTI-Jenn's _Wrong Place, Wrong Time_ spring to mind) and I was having a hard time finding an original take on the subject that wouldn't tread to close too something already done, and done well.**

**Anyway, long story short (too late!) I was working on something completely different when a glimmer of an idea came to me, and I sat down and the words just started to flow. **

**Thank you for the little nudges and words of encouragement you've sent my way. It helps to know that although I sometimes feel that I should just give up and move on, that there are a few of you out there who still have a vested interest in this story. I can only hope that you're not disappointed by the direction I've chosen to go here.**

**So… *takes a nervous breath* Enjoy!**

* * *

After leaving Danny asleep in her office, Stella was about to head back to the trace lab where she'd been delving into the origins of the gravel found in Delorsio's tire track when she saw Adam Ross and Sheldon Hawkes barreling down the hall toward Mac's office.

"Whoa! Where's the fire, boys?" she asked as they rushed past her.

"Huh? Oh… we think we got something Stell!" Adam called out over his shoulder, his pace barely slowing. "Come on! We gotta tell Mac!"

Stella caught up with them just as Adam rapped his knuckles against Mac's door, catching the head of the crime lab's attention and garnering themselves a welcoming nod.

"What's going on?" Mac inquired as the group entered his office. "I was just filling Don here in on all the details of the case so far." He gestured to Flack who was seated on the long leather couch opposite his desk. "I was just about to come and check on your progress… but it looks like you beat me to the punch."

"Hey Flack," Hawkes nodded a greeting at the seated detective who was looking rather tired and careworn after hearing Mac's news about Danny's childhood hero's potential involvement in the 20 year old case that was at the core of their current investigation. "So… me and Adam were working on a few things, and we may have found something that ties Delorsio and Vanzella together."

"Okay," Mac said. "Go ahead. What've you got?"

"Well…" Adam began, rifling through the thick sheaf of papers in his hand. "Um… so, you know how I was trying to find the meaning behind Valhalla? And Hawkes was looking for some connection between these two guys?" Mac nodded his head and Adam continued. "Uh… so, we were both kind of stumped. So we figured why not put our heads together and see if we did any better if we shared the load."

"Mmm hmm…" Mac said, his usual patience for Adam's rambling wearing a little thin when the stakes were so high. One of his team was missing and another had barely escaped from Delorsio's clutches with his life. He was not in the mood for dilly-dallying today. "Adam. Your point?"

"Oh… right. Sorry, boss," Adam said, obviously flustered at suddenly finding all eyes in the room on him. "Um… so Hawkes was looking through their personal stuff, you know? 'Cause we figured they probably knew each other at least to see one another – Danny said everybody in his neighbourhood was pretty tight, so we needed more than that, right?"

"Agreed," Mac said.

"So I pulled up Delorsio's bank records," Hawkes jumped in, earning a grateful smile from Adam. "And I found that at the time of the attacks, he was working for a company called VDC."

"_VDC_? What's that?" Stella asked.

"Well that's what we wondered," Hawkes continued. "But we couldn't really find anything on it. And then when we went through Vanzella's records, we saw that he was also receiving quarterly deposits from the same company."

"Quarterly?" Flack piped up from his place on the couch. "Like… like an investment or something?"

"Yes! That's exactly what we thought!" Hawkes agreed. "But still, couldn't find anything at all about VDC… so we decided to run a search. We figured there was a chance that if Vanzella was an investor… well, we searched for any companies in existence around the time of the attacks that may have had those initials, starting with _Vanzella_ and ending in either Company or Corporation."

"And?" Mac was leaning forward expectantly. "What did you find?"

"Bupkiss," Hawkes said, although the smile on his face was incongruous with his words. "But then Adam… he had this brilliant idea. This totally, brilliant, insane idea." He turned to his younger counterpart. "Tell them, Adam."

"Oh… well, it wasn't brilliant. It was… I mean, I just…" Adam demurred, his cheeks flushing with pink at the unexpected praise from Hawkes. "I mean, we were trying to figure out what it meant, so why not give it a go? We had nothing to lose, right?"

Seeing the blank stares from Mac, Stella and Flack, Adam began to rifle through the paperwork in his hands, looking for a specific printout. "Here," he said, handing the document over to Mac. "VDC… not Vanzella, but _Valhalla_. Valhalla Development Corporation, to be precise."

Mac's eyes scanned the document, his years of training helping him to focus in on the important details. Valhalla Development Corporation… Majority shareholder – L. Vanzella. The company had been behind several major building projects in the early to mid 80's before it went under in the early months of 1988... not all that long after Danny and his childhood friend Tommy had stumbled upon the mass grave in the empty lot in their neighbourhood.

Mac stared off into space, his mind working overtime as a glimmer of an idea began to form in his mind. "A development company…" he mused aloud. "Developers mean building sites… and where there's building sites, there's…"

"Gravel," Adam finished for him, handing him yet another piece of paper. He handed out copies of the document to his assembled teammates, giving Stella a wink as she accepted her copy. "I think we may have accidentally solved your piece of the puzzle, Stell."

"As you can see," Hawkes said, referring to the report Adam had passed around, "Valhalla Development Corporation got it's gravel from several sources. But on two builds during 1986 and 87, VDC used the quarry where the sample from Delorsio's tire came from."

"Oh my God," Stella breathed, relief washing over her. The weight of her as yet unfinished and seemingly endless search was lifted from her shoulders. "You guys are so good." She flashed a grateful smile in Hawkes and Adam's direction before turning back to Mac. "So, what do you think?"

"Well," Mac said, "It looks like this will help us narrow things down, that's for sure." He looked up at the pair that had made the discovery. "Have you found out anything about the two sites that used this specific gravel?"

"Not yet, but we're on that next," Hawkes said.

"Okay. Take Stella. The three of you put your heads together and see what you can come up with. I want to be kept in the loop on this. You find anything – and I mean _anything_ – I want to know about it immediately."

Three heads nodded their assent before they headed out the door in single file.

* * *

Lindsay groaned, her body aching as consciousness once again loomed on the horizon. After she'd released the contents of her stomach all over Delorsio, he'd lost his temper with her, landing a few more heavy punches to her already battered body before he'd cracked her hard across the face. The burning sting of his hand against her cheek was the last thing she remembered before darkness had overwhelmed her once more.

She cautiously peeled open her eyes, blinking in confusion when the darkness didn't disappear with the lifting of her eyelids. Gone was the dingy room where Delorsio had mercilessly beaten her, replaced by an inky blackness that enveloped her entirely, stifling her with it's all encompassing closeness. She couldn't feel anything covering her eyes, so she made the assumption that either Delorsio had covered the tiny window in the room, or she'd been moved to a new location entirely.

She sniffed cautiously, taking in the scent of her surroundings. The room didn't smell like it had before. The smell of mold had been replaced by the earthy aroma of soil and as she lay her cheek against the ground, she felt the grit of dirt against her skin. Panic began to rise inside of her. Where the hell was she?

She shifted, trying to alleviate the ache in her shoulders and found to her amazement that the cuffs Delorsio had used to restrain her were gone. The relief she felt at her newfound liberty was fleeting. Delorsio wouldn't risk letting her escape… not when he was using her as bait to lure Danny to his lair. So that meant… her heart sank and her spirits flagged. That meant that wherever she was now… her chances of escape were slim to none. He would never have removed the cuffs if he'd thought for a moment that freeing her hands would have given her even the slightest chance at freedom.

With a grunt of pain, Lindsay tried to prop herself up on her elbows, her body protesting at the prospect of remaining in her prone position any longer. But when her head collided sharply with something hard and resistant, she collapsed back down onto her back, one hand raised to rub at the newly forming bump on her forehead. _What the hell was going on here?_

Lifting her hands, she slowly began to raise them above her face, trying to ascertain on what she could have hit her head. She guessed she'd gotten about six or seven inches before her fingers came into contact with something hard and flat. Judging by the rough texture, she hazarded a guess that whatever it was, it was made of unfinished wood.

An uneasy feeling began to settle in the pit of her stomach as her fingers ventured further along the wooden impediment… she'd thought maybe she'd found herself passed out under a table or something of that nature… but as her fingers followed the grain of the wood she realized it was something far more sinister. Raising her foot, her bare toes met the same hard, wooden surface as her fingers and she realized that the timber slats appeared to run parallel to the entire length of her body.

With shaking hands, she allowed her fingers to move outward from the centre of the wooden slab, searching for its edges. Her unease turned into sheer, blinding panic when her hands met similar resistance to her left and right.

"No. No, no, no!" she whimpered as her nails scratched ineffectually against the sides of the box that contained her. "No, please… please! Don't do this! Don't… please, let me out!"

Her whimpers escalated into screams of terror and she pounded her fists against the top and sides of the makeshift coffin, heedless of the pain her movements caused her battered body and the jagged splinters lodging themselves beneath her delicate skin. "Help me! Please! Help!"

An eerie cackle echoed menacingly from above and she stilled her movements, her chest rising and falling rapidly and her heart beating out a brisk staccato beneath her ribs.

"Sounds like someone's awake down there," Delorsio's glee-filled voice floated through the walls of her wooden prison. "Do you like your new accommodations? I made it specially for you. All those other bitches just got dumped in a hole the ground. But then again… they were already dead." He let out a foreboding chuckle and Lindsay thought his faceless voice was getting closer. "But you – Detective Monroe from Montana – I've decided that you get special treatment. A quick death would be too good for you."

"Please… don't do this…" Lindsay pleaded as her eyes flooded with tears. "Please!"

A loud thud made her heart jump in her chest. It was followed quickly by another and then another and she realized that he had begun to shovel dirt on top of her crude sarcophagus.

"I've sent along a little present to your pal Messer," Delorsio continued before he heaved another shovelful of dirt on top of her. "I hope you're not too cold down there without your clothes… I took the liberty of removing them from you before I sealed your fate… so to speak." He giggled wickedly at his own morbid pun. "Figured you wouldn't need them down there… but I'm sure that your shredded clothes and the picture I took of your naked, unconscious body will be enough to get his blood boiling."

"No…" Lindsay whispered, picturing Danny's face as he gazed in horror at the image of her battered body laid bare before him. "No!" she wailed, her fists once again beating fiercely against the confining walls around her. "You bastard! You fucking bastard!"

"I have every faith in your little team," Delorsio continued, as if he'd not heard a word of Lindsay's protests. "It's only a matter of time now before they finally figure out where you are… but it will be too late. With every breath you take you will only bring yourself closer and closer to your own death. And maybe – just maybe – you'll still be alive when they get here… but it won't matter. They'll never find you. And you… if you're still conscious down there, you'll get to listen in as I slaughter them one by one… I think I'll leave Messer for last." He let out a mirthless cackle that caused Lindsay's flesh to crawl. "Sound familiar? I told you I did my homework on you. You've been here before, listening to your friends die and knowing there was not a fucking thing you could do to help them."

Another load of earth descended upon Lindsay's untimely grave and she let out a primal scream of anguish. How could anyone be so inhumanly cruel? How was it possible for one person to think so little of his fellow beings that he could inflict such pain, cause such suffering?

Delorsio continued to fill the hole above her with earth, sand and gravel, all the while muttering and laughing to himself, his voice getting fainter and more muffled with each load of debris until all Lindsay could hear was the faint fall of his footsteps as he walked away and the thudding of her own heart in her ears.

* * *

Although his body was motionless, Danny's mind had never stopped working, even in sleep. Visions of Lindsay in all manner of distress floated through his dreams. He could hear her screaming for him to help her, but he found himself stranded in the midst of a tangled labyrinth of tall menacing walls that loomed over him, blocking his path and leaving him feeling helpless and bereft. Try as he might, his continual struggles to find her only drew him deeper and deeper into the maze, his panic increasing until he turned one final corner. The gruesome sight before his eyes caused his stomach to lurch. Lindsay – his beautiful Lindsay – was lying on the ground at the centre of the maze, her body cast aside much the same way as Joanie Vanzella's had been, a crimson ribbon of blood oozing from the fresh gash in her neck and her brown eyes fixed accusingly on him. If he'd only been faster, smarter, better…

"Lindsay!"

Drenched in a cold sweat, Danny sat up straight. His pulse was pounding in his ears and his heart racing as if he'd just run a marathon. Panting hard, he gazed wildly around him until his brain finally began to register where he was and the terror that had held him tightly in its clutches began to loosen its grip.

Jesus. He must have fallen asleep talking to Stella. He vaguely remembered her bringing him an ice pack, how it's soothing cool had felt so good against his aching temple. He must have been asleep for a while if the pain in his temple and the wad of soggy paper towels on the floor beside the couch were anything to go by.

Reaching out blindly for his glasses, he found them neatly folded on his desk, along with his wallet and his cell phone. He gingerly shifted on the couch, putting his feet on the floor and slowly pushing himself into a half-standing position before the room began to swim around him and he sank back down onto the couch.

"Fuck," he muttered. He knew he was supposed to take it easy – Flack had made that fact very clear – but he couldn't very well lay here all damn day! Surely he could do something useful that wouldn't be too taxing in his current state. He tried again to rise to his feet, using the arm of the couch to steady himself before he took a shaky step toward his desk. He grabbed his wallet and his cell and shoved them in his pockets and was about to head out into the hall when the phone on his desk rang loudly, startling him.

One hand clutched at his chest in an attempt to quell his nerves while the other reached for the phone.

"Hello?" he asked, raising the handset to his ear.

"Oh. Um… hello," a female voice greeted him. He furrowed his brow. He recognized that voice. He'd heard it before, he was certain. But the accent was what really caught his attention. The inflection so much like Lindsay's had been when she'd first arrived in New York. "Is that Danny?" the voice asked with a hint of a smile.

"Yes," he said cautiously. "Who's this?"

The voice chuckled lightly. "Should I be hurt that you don't remember me?" she asked. "It's Dana Monroe; Lindsay's mom."

_Oh shit_. If Lindsay's mother was calling the lab asking for her, then that meant…

"I've been trying to get Lindsay on her cell all morning, but it keeps going straight to voicemail," Dana continued cheerily. "I figured she was probably just busy as always, but I thought I'd try the office just in the off chance that she was at her desk. Is she around?"

Danny's heart sank. He was suddenly transported back several months in time. Sid had just informed he and Lindsay that their victim's mother had arrived and wanted to talk to one of them. He could clearly remember Lindsay's words when he'd casually suggested that she talk to the mother while he worked on another aspect of their case. At the time her words had made little sense to him, although now he had a clearer understanding of the reasoning behind them.

"_I'm no good with mothers. Fathers I can give bad news to all day long. I can't face mothers."_

It wasn't that he would have been any more comfortable having his particular discussion with Lindsay's father. But he'd met Dana Monroe – albeit briefly – during his two day jaunt to Montana. When Lindsay had arrived at his hotel to take him to the airport the morning after her court appearance, Dana had invited herself along for the ride, wanting to get to know Lindsay's elusive and mysterious friend and the pair of them had hit it off immediately. Lindsay was the spitting image of her mother and shared her sense of adventure and quick wit to boot.

Squeezing his eyes shut to hold back the tears that had sprung unexpectedly to his eyes, Danny lowered himself into his chair. He felt ill equipped to be the one to deliver the news of Lindsay's disappearance to her mother, who clearly had no inkling that there was anything amiss.

"Danny?" a hint of worry had crept into her tone. "Is everything alright? Where's Lindsay?"

"Um… Mrs. Monroe… maybe I should…" God, his head was really pounding now and he could barely see for the tears clouding his eyes. "I'm so sorry. But Lindsay… she's… something's happened."

As gently as he could, he broke the news to the increasingly distraught woman on the other end of the line, leaving out the worst of the details such as Eric Delorsio's association with a 20 year old multiple rape and murder case. He gave the barest facts possible, trying with all his might to keep his tone hopeful. They would find her. They had their best people working on it and no one was taking a moment's rest until she was back home, safe and sound.

His words sounded a lie in his ears. What the hell had he been doing? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Lindsay had been taken hours ago and he'd not lifted a finger to help. His guilty conscience weighed heavily on his soul as he listened to Dana Monroe sob 3,000 miles away for her missing child.

"Why her?" she begged. "What does this man have against her? What could she have done to deserve this?"

He wanted to tell her that it was him. It was his fault. The only thing Lindsay had done wrong was care about him. But his voice wouldn't cooperate and the words refused to form around the uncomfortable lump lodged firmly in his throat. "I'm so sorry," was all he could manage to whisper. "I'm so, so sorry."

Dana sniffled and blew her nose. "Lindsay's father is at work. I'd better call him and let him know," she said with a shaky voice. "But before I go, can I ask you something, Danny?"

"Anything."

"Can you… I don't know these other people that Lindsay works with, but I know you. I know what you did for her when you came to Montana. I know how much you care about her." Danny closed his eyes and remained silent. "If something happens to her… if the worst happens… I don't want to hear about it from a stranger, Danny. I know it's a lot to ask, but…"

"We're going to find her, Mrs. Monroe," Danny said, hoping like hell that he was telling the truth. "And when we do, I'll let her tell you herself."

"But if…"

Danny fought to bite back the sob that threatened to escape his lips. "But if the worst happens, I promise you'll hear it from me."

Dana Monroe released a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Danny," she said. "You're a good man and a good friend to Lindsay. She's lucky to have someone like you looking out for her."

"The feeling is one hundred percent mutual, Mrs. Monroe," Danny replied, feeling daggers of guilt spearing his heart at her words. If he had only stayed the hell out of Lindsay's life… he shook his head. He'd tried to give her the space he'd thought she had wanted, needed. He'd let her make the first move. And in the end she had wanted him as much as he'd wanted her. And he wouldn't spend another minute regretting the time they'd had together. He had to focus on the future, on getting her back.

Dana Monroe thanked him again and they said their goodbyes. He placed the handset back in it's cradle and slowly got to his feet. His eyes came to rest on Don Flack, who stood in the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest and a look of utmost concern on his face.

"You okay?"

Danny swallowed hard and plastered a half-hearted smile on his face, nodding. "Yeah… I feel better. Thanks for the ice."

Flack shook his head then indicated the phone on Danny's desk. "I wasn't talking about physically, Dan," he said. "That was Lindsay's mom, wasn't it?"

Danny inclined his head in the affirmative and Flack let out a sigh. "Jesus, Danny! Why didn't you come get one of us? You shouldn't have had to do that on your own!"

Danny jutted out his chin defiantly. "I'm not gonna fall apart at the seams, Flack," he argued. "And besides, I couldn't just pass her off to someone she's never met…" He pressed his lips together, cringing inwardly at his slip of the tongue. But it was too late. He could tell by the look on Flack's face that his words hadn't gone unnoticed.

"When did you…?" he began to ask, but Danny cut him off.

"It doesn't fucking matter, Flack," Danny snapped. "It just… it was better coming from me."

Seeing Danny so agitated and upset, Flack decided against pressing the matter further. He'd had his suspicions about Danny's whereabouts during the days after they'd worked the Luke Blade case all those months ago. Danny had nearly been asleep on his feet when Mac had finally sent him home and initially Flack had assumed he'd spent the next few days catching up on some much needed and well-deserved sleep. However, when he'd returned to work three days later, clearly still exhausted, Flack had wondered what could have been so important that he would have chosen to stay awake rather than forgo the rest he'd been so desperately in need of.

"A package came for you," he said, changing the subject. Danny furrowed his brow questioningly and Flack shrugged his shoulders. "Might be nothing, but it was in the same kind of box as the rat-cicle we found in your freezer… so Mac's got it in trace right now. He's waiting on you to come and open it." He pushed himself off of the door frame and took a step toward his friend, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "If you're not up for it…"

"I said I'm fine," Danny retorted, then his tone softened. "I'm sorry, Don," he said quietly. "I really am okay."

"You sure you wanna know what's in that box? The last time it wasn't so pleasant," Flack reminded him.

"I'm sure," Danny assured him, although the tremor in his voice belied his words.

With one arm around Danny's shoulders, Flack led him down the hall toward the trace lab where the rest of the team was gathered, anxiously waiting for its contents to be revealed.

* * *

***peeks out from under the bed***

**So? What do we think? Still interested? Or not so much?**

**Gah. _Super_ nervous about his one, so please let me know what you thought – good or bad, I'd love your feedback.**

**Thanks for reading, and hopefully I'll see you next chapter!**

***rhymes***


	21. Breathless

**A/N: So I seem to have struck a nerve with the last chapter. My apologies to all those of you who informed me that I had realized your worst fears by having Lindsay buried alive. I'm glad you all seemed to enjoy it, despite the fact that I utterly and completely creeped you out and gave you a severe case of the heebie-jeebies.**

**The reaction to the last chapter absolutely floored me. So many of you had so many wonderful and kind things to say (after you gave me an earful for the whole buried alive thing, of course!) and I cannot thank you enough for your words of support and encouragement. Enormous gratitude to _SunnyCitrus10, bookworm, mckenzie, afrozenheart412, alexindigo, Izzi Creo, Aveo amacus, Daisy1966, LindsayMesser, Maria, laurzz, juels4ya, rapidtetv, 123montana321, thefishbelly, webdlfan, Alex Joleta _and_ CTI-Jenn_. You guys seriously, _seriously_ made me a very happy camper!**

**Now… a word of warning: The second part of this chapter contains some, shall we say, disturbing content so if you are sensitive in nature… yeah. Might want to skip that part. This chapter is definitely rated M.**

* * *

"Mac! Don!"

Hearing their names called from the lab where Adam, Hawkes and Stella were working, Mac Taylor and Don Flack paused in the hallway, turning and stepping through the open doorway.

"Yes?" Mac asked, his eyebrows raised expectantly at the three faces staring eagerly back at him. "You bellowed?"

Adam grinned at his boss. "We think we got it. We know where Delorsio was before he took Lindsay."

"Really?" Flack asked.

"Really," Hawkes confirmed. "And it ties in nicely with the whole Valhalla thing too, which leads me to believe – and I don't think that I'm alone here – that we might have a bead on where he's taken Lindsay."

Mac and Flack exchanged hopeful glances. If what Hawkes, Stella and Adam were saying was true, then they were getting closer to getting Lindsay back. They could only hope that they weren't too late to save her from whatever fate Delorsio had planned for her. Before the group could elaborate on their findings, Mac's attention was drawn to the uniformed officer walking down the hall with a box in his hands. While it wasn't unusual to see a uni in the lab, it wasn't often that said officer would be wandering the halls, peering into offices and labs, looking as lost as he was. Mac crossed the room and pulled open the door.

"Can I help you?" he asked. The young man turned and smiled gratefully at Mac.

"Yes," he said. "I'm looking for a Detective Messer… is he around?"

Knowing that Danny was getting some much needed rest in his own office, Mac was loathe to wake him unless it was very important. "He's unavailable at the moment. Something I can help you with?"

The officer held up the box he was holding. "Delivery came for him downstairs. Said it was urgent and that it had to go straight to Detective Messer. No one else."

Mac took a step toward the young man, glancing down at the box. Danny's name was scrawled across the top in large block letters along with the lab's address. An uneasy feeling began to rise in the pit of Mac's stomach. "Who did you say delivered the package?"

The officer shrugged his shoulders. "Just some delivery guy from World Send."

"What did he look like?" Mac asked.

The officer furrowed his brow as he tried to recall. "Um… about five foot nine. Light brown hair… around twenty five or so."

Although the description didn't match Delorsio's, Mac uneasiness did not diminish. "Is he still downstairs?"

The officer shook his head. "No. He dropped off the package at the security desk, delivered the message that it was to go to Messer and took off."

"Leave it with me," Mac said, taking a pair of gloves from his pocket and quickly pulling them on before reaching out for the box.

The officer resisted handing the box over for a moment, his eyes locked on Mac's before he finally let go. "Here you go, sir." The officer turned and headed back toward the elevators, leaving Mac standing in the doorway with the box in his hands.

"What was that all about?" Flack asked, sidling up behind Mac and glancing at the package over his shoulder.

Mac shook his head. "It may be nothing," he said. "But this was just delivered. It's addressed to Danny. And it bears an uncanny resemblance to the box you guys found in Danny's freezer."

"Fuck," Flack sighed, running his hands through his already rumpled hair. "If it's another rat… I'm not sure I can hold onto my breakfast this time."

With his expression grim, Mac glanced down at the box. "I have a bad feeling about this." He let out a weary sigh and set the box down on the light table in the centre of the room, tapping his fingers against the table's surface while he thought. Finally reaching a decision, he turned and called out for Flack.

"Don… go get Danny. Wake him up if you have to." Flack grimaced, clearly not relishing the idea of having to wake his slumbering friend and – yet again – be the bearer of bad news. "I'm sorry, Don. But whatever is in this box… it's addressed to him and he should be the one to open it."

Flack closed his eyes and sighed resignedly before he inclined his head and left the room. Mac watched him until he disappeared around the corner.

"Okay. Fill me in," Mac said, taking a seat at the desk and leaning forward to peer at the computer monitor Hawkes, Adam and Stella had gathered around. "What have you found?"

"Um… we did what you asked and started to dig into the sites that VDC had commissioned gravel from Stella's quarry and we found these two," Adam said, pointing to the map of the city displayed on the monitor. "This one here is way the hell out in Queens and Delorsio has no ties there. We looked into it briefly, and figured we'd come back to it if we didn't find anything on the other site."

"Fair enough," Mac agreed. "I take it from the way the three of you are practically vibrating with excitement that you've got something on the second building site?"

Stella nodded her head. "We sure do," she said. "It's here, over on Staten Island – right in the heart of Delorsio's comfort zone." She turned to Mac with a satisfied smile on her face. "He'd want to take her somewhere he knew, somewhere familiar. Where better place to take her than back to his old stomping grounds?"

Mac frowned thoughtfully. "That would be a big risk for him. Someone might recognize him. We've got bulletins out all across the city and we're running his picture on the news around the clock," he said. "But then again, it's not like he's making rational decisions here. He took Lindsay as a last resort and it seems to me that since his original plans for Danny went up in smoke, so to speak, he's been flying by the seat of his pants."

Three heads nodded their agreement. "And here's the real kicker," Adam said, zooming in on the map and enlarging the image until the streets of Danny's old neighbourhood could easily be seen. "The site… Not only is it where he worked construction for VDC, it's located right beside the recently departed Sal Trombino's home, which means…"

"He's gone back to where it all started," Mac finished for him. He shook his head in disbelief. 19 years ago, two young boys had interrupted Eric Delorsio on that very spot in the process of burying his latest victim and he had been carefully nursing a festering grudge ever since. Could it really be possible? Could it be that simple? "What's there now? Is it… is it still an empty lot? Or…"

"Back in the 80s, there was a movement to try and gentrify the neighbourhood," Stella jumped in to explain. "VDC was commissioned to build a series of luxury suites in the area. After Trombino blew the whistle on Delorsio and the police found the burial site for all those poor girls, VDC still pushed ahead with construction. They broke ground, laid the foundation and got one building nearly completed, but they ran out of money before they could finish when the backers pulled their funding. Apparently they felt that no one would want to live in a building on top of a former mass grave."

"So," Hawkes continued, picking up where Stella had left off, "VDC had no choice but to stop construction and lock up the building. It's been sitting like that ever since – vacant and slowly deteriorating. No one will touch it with a hundred-foot pole because of the history of the land. The project nearly sent Vanzella into bankruptcy and it was not long after that VDC went under."

Mac sat back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest as his tired brain attempted to absorb all of the information.

"So what's the game plan?" Hawkes asked when Mac still hadn't spoken after several long moments. "We moving in?"

Mac shrugged his shoulders. "We need to figure out what we're dealing with here before we go storming through the front doors," he said. "Do we have any blueprints or schematics for the building to give us a feel for the layout?"

Stella nodded her head. "I went into the city planner's database and pulled up the plans," she said, moving over to another computer and tapping at her keyboard, bringing up the images on the screen. "Now, these were the plans for the completed building, so there's bound to be a few differences. But from what we can tell from the foreman's reports, the layout should be pretty close to what we see here."

"Good. That's really good you guys," Mac said. He glanced up from the monitor to see Flack and Danny approaching.

"Hey! There he is!" Hawkes said, smiling at Danny as Flack led him into the lab. "How're you feeling, buddy?"

It was the first time Mac had seen Danny since last night in the hospital and he couldn't help but notice that his face was very pale and drawn, and he walked stiffly, as though every step caused him pain.

"Fine," Danny said quietly. He took a seat at one of the raised stools at the light table, grimacing and holding his side as he did so. It was then that Mac realized they'd all been so concerned about his head that they'd completely forgotten about his other injuries. Danny, however, appeared not to notice the concerned looks cast his way and was already pulling on a pair of latex gloves. "Where'd this come from?" he asked, drawing the box toward himself.

"It was delivered about ten minutes ago," Mac said. "World Send guy came in and dropped it off downstairs." He regarded Danny warily, noticing that the young detective's hands were shaking slightly as he picked up a knife to cut the tape that sealed the box. "You want a hand with that?" he asked kindly.

Danny's cheeks flushed with colour at his perceived show of weakness but he stubbornly shook his head. "I said I'm fine." He took in a deep breath before letting it out slowly. He reaffirmed his grip on the knife and quickly slit the tape. He set the knife down on the table and drew back the flaps, revealing the box's contents. His brow furrowed as he stared down that the crumpled mess of fabric within.

"What is it?" he heard Adam's voice behind him and glanced over his shoulder to see that the team had kept their distance, giving him a moment with whatever was hidden inside the box. But they were all eagerly leaning forward now, hoping for a glimpse of it's contents.

"It's uh… well, it looks like clothes," Danny said, taking the top garment and pulling it from the box. He held it out in front of him, turning it this way and that, wondering why the hell anyone would send him a box of dirty old clothes when realization dawned suddenly and painfully. "Oh God," he whispered. "No… no, no, no!"

"Danny, what…?" Flack asked, confusion evident on his face as Danny began to tear through the box of clothing, heedless of disturbing any potential evidence as he did so. "What is it?" he asked quietly of Mac and Stella who had gathered around the table and were sorting through the items and laying them flat so as to get a better look.

Stella shook her head. "It looks like women's clothing," Stella whispered in response. "Although…" Her voice trailed off and she raised her hand to her mouth in shock as she recognized the tattered blouse laid out in front of her as one Lindsay had been wearing when she'd seen her last. "It's Lindsay," she breathed, her eyes wide and brimming with tears as she met Flack's gaze. "These are her clothes."

All eyes were on Danny, who stared forlornly down at the box on the table. The last of the clothes had been removed; Lindsay's blouse, her jacket, slacks, bra and panties… all of them ripped and torn, indicating that they had been removed from their wearer neither gently nor willingly.

The weight of his conversation with Lindsay's mother suddenly crashed down around Danny. He'd promised that if the worst happened and they found Lindsay too late… He hung his head, blinking back the tears that had sprung unbidden to his eyes.

Unable to bear the anguished expression on Danny's face any longer, Stella turned her attention back to the clothing spread out on the table in front of her. With gloved hands she methodically examined them for trace evidence, finding some solace in the familiar task, although it unsettled her more than she cared to admit that the clothing wasn't that of some random victim, but her friend. She picked up Lindsay's pants and her brow creased when she both heard and felt a crinkle when her hand skimmed over the back pocket.

"Guys? I think there's something in her pocket," she said. Inserting two fingers into the pocket, she extracted what appeared to be a Polaroid photograph. Turning it over so she could see the picture on the front, she let out a startled gasp at the horrifying image before her. "Oh, God…" she breathed, flipping the picture over and placing it face down on the table. "Oh my God."

"What, Stella?" Mac asked, reaching out a hand for the photograph. "What is it?"

"No!" Stella said, clutching the picture tightly to her chest. "No. I'm sorry, but I can't show you. I just… I can't."

She cast a wary glance in Danny's direction. His blue were brimming with pain and he stared questioningly back at her. He held out his hand, silently beseeching her to hand over the photograph. Stella shook her head. "No, Danny. You don't need to see this."

His bottom lip trembled and she could see unshed tears glistening on his lashes. "Stella, please," he said quietly. "I can take it – whatever it is. Delorsio sent it to me. I need to see it."

Stella glanced down at the picture once more, her stomach twisting sickeningly once more. Every fibre of her being screamed at her to cut the picture up into a thousand pieces so that no one else would ever have to be tortured by the cruel sight. But Danny finally won her over with his quiet pleading. She rounded the table and - standing beside him with one hand placed supportively on his shoulder - she handed over the photograph.

Taking a deep breath, Danny flicked his eyes down to the image and a strangled sob escaped his lips. It was impossible to tell from the picture whether Lindsay was alive or dead. Her tiny body lay atop a filthy mattress. Angry bruises had formed across her stomach, her face was bloodied and even her delicate breasts now boasted ugly discoloured welts from whatever the sick bastard had done to her. And the way he had positioned her, splayed out so indecently…

On the white space at the bottom of the picture, Delorsio had written a message with black indelible ink.

_She's a pretty little thing, Messer. Nice and tight._

_I told you I'd get to know her._

"Motherfucker," Danny muttered under his breath, his fingers contracting into a tight fist, crumpling the picture in his palm. He slammed his fists down on the surface of the table, causing the light within to flicker with the force of the impact. "Son of a fucking bitch! I'm gonna kill him!"

Startled by Danny's outburst, the team exchanged wary glances as Danny shoved his stool back from the table and got to his feet. "Where is she? Do we know?" he demanded, his blue eyes flashing with unbridled rage. "Answer me!"

"Danny, calm down…" Flack tried to soothe his friend, but Danny turned on him, jabbing him in the chest with his finger.

"Fuck you!" Danny spat. "Don't you fucking tell me to calm down!" He turned to the rest of the team. "Do we know where she is? Yes or no?"

"Uh… we, um…" Adam stuttered, uneasy at being on the receiving end of Danny's wrath. "We think… we might…"

"We think he's got her over on Staten Island," Hawkes interjected, speaking in a low, calming voice. "We've traced him back to an abandoned building site in your old neighbourhood. Does the word _Valhalla_ mean anything to you?"

Danny's head snapped in Hawkes's direction, his eyes narrowed. "Why?" he asked cautiously. "What does that have to do with anything? If we know where she is why the hell are we wasting our time here? Let's go!"

"Danny…" Mac sighed as Danny made a beeline for the door.

"What?" Danny snapped, turning and glaring at Mac.

"You know you can't come," Mac said, taking a tentative step toward the agitated young detective. "It's too dangerous and you're not well."

Danny let out a derisive snort. "I'm gonna be there whether you like it or not."

"Danny…" Stella began.

"No!" Danny shouted. "No. I'm going. She's in this mess because of me. Delorsio's issue is with me. And I made a promise to Lindsay's mom…" His voice cracked and he cast his gaze to the floor, swallowing the painful lump that had risen once again in his throat. "I need to be there," he said softly, raising his blue eyes to Mac's steely grey stare. "Please, Mac. Please."

Mac let out a heavy sigh and gave his head a shake. It was against his better judgment to allow Danny anywhere near Delorsio in his current state. Not only was he weakened by his injuries, but he was clearly in a state of extreme emotional distress. But he knew that short of putting him under lock and key down at the precinct, there was no way Danny was going to remain behind. He would show up with or without Mac's blessing. Mentally cursing Hawkes for revealing Delorsio's suspected hiding place to Danny, Mac closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose tightly between his thumb and forefinger.

"We move out in ten minutes. If you're not ready, we leave without you."

* * *

Lindsay had never been afraid of the dark. On the contrary, as a child she'd made frequent nighttime forays out into the darkened forest surrounding her family's ranch. It was something that had come in very useful in her line of work. Criminals rarely chose their crime scenes based upon ease of access for the subsequent investigators, and many times she'd been forced to crawl into small, dark places which she supposed others may have found intimidating. But she had never minded. Until now.

The darkness around her was pervasive and oppressing, made worse by the knowledge that she knew very well where the edges of the darkness ended and her prison began. Her throat was sore and scratchy from her screaming and she could feel the sticky warmth of her own blood on her splintered fingers from punching and clawing at the wooden box that encased her.

The unyielding darkness caused a terror to well up inside of her that enveloped her every pore, causing her body to react; her breath quickening, her skin crawling with goose bumps, her senses heightened. But it was no use. She could see nothing, hear nothing. No light, no sound. She had no idea how much time had passed or when she would run out of air.

She had tried to regulate her breathing, knowing that she had to conserve her dwindling supply of precious oxygen. But it was no use; the air was already growing stagnant and Lindsay was becoming tired. So tired. Maybe if she just closed her eyes for a moment…

"No," she chastised herself. "Don't be stupid, Lindsay. Stay awake. You have to stay awake. They'll find you. Danny will find you."

As his name left her lips, Lindsay felt fresh tears prickling behind her eyes. What she wouldn't give to see him again, to feel his arms around her, his lips tenderly caressing her skin, his hands slowly and lovingly exploring her body. Unwillingly, her eyes began to droop…

"_Danny," she whispered against his skin as she blazed a path of kisses along his jaw. "I want you."_

"_Montana," he sighed. She could hear the hesitation in his voice and she pulled back, raising her hands to his face and tilting his head down so his eyes met hers. They had dashed the four short blocks from the subway station to her apartment and his cheeks had a rosy tint to them from the bite of the frigid night air. With every stop the train had made along its route, Lindsay's need for him had increased exponentially as their kisses had become more and more urgent._

"_I know I made you wait. But I want this, Danny. I want you," she said, her words heartfelt as her fingers slid from his face up into his hair. Danny shivered at her touch and she pressed her body against his, smiling up at him when she felt the evidence of his desire against her hip. "I want to feel you. I want you to touch me. Make me feel good, Danny. I'm yours."_

_Danny let out a low moan from deep in the back of his throat before his lips crashed against hers, his tongue desperately seeking the warmth of her mouth. His kisses felt so good and she couldn't get enough of him; his taste, his scent. How had she never noticed that he smelled so good?_

"_Bedroom?" he mumbled against her lips when they parted for a much needed breath of air._

"_That way," Lindsay instructed with a nod of her head in the direction of her room. Wasting no time, Danny scooped her up into his arms and whisked her down the hall where he carefully laid her down atop the comforter. Kneeling over her, he made as if to pull back, his fingers moving to the front of his button down shirt, but Lindsay placed her hands over his, stilling his movements and shook her head. "No. I want to undress you."_

_A small smile tugged at the corners of Danny's mouth. "Only if I get to undress you," he challenged._

_Lindsay giggled coquettishly. "We'll see," she said. "But you first."_

_Her fingers made quick work of his shirt and soon she was shoving it from his shoulders and tossing it to the floor at the side of her bed. His wife-beater soon followed and she took a moment to let her hands wander unimpeded over his upper body. She could feel his muscles contracting and flexing beneath her fingers and he let out a hiss of pleasure when she circled his nipple enticingly with the tip of one finger. "You like that?" she asked, one eyebrow raised in flirtatious delight at the blush blooming on his face as he nodded his head. She sat up, letting her mouth pick up where her fingers had left off, lazily exploring his chest with her lips and tongue. _

_She felt Danny's hands curling into fists in her hair and his breath quickening at her amorous touches. While her mouth trailed upward to his shoulder and neck, Lindsay's hands sought to free the rest of him from his clothing. Flicking open his belt buckle and unfastening his button and fly, she tucked her fingers into the waist of his underwear and shoved them down his thighs along with his jeans._

_Placing a final kiss to his jaw, she gazed up at his face. He gnawed uncertainly at his lower lip and she knew he was all too aware that he was fully and completely exposed to her now. All the power was hers. He stared trustingly back at her, his gaze unwavering until Lindsay finally lowered her eyes, taking in the lines of his naked body for the first time._

_Her fingers slithered down his stomach and she traced the hills and valleys of his abs and the deep, chiseled V of his groin. She smiled back up at him as one hand closed around his cock while the other cupped his balls. "Well hello, Mr. Messer," she drawled, slowly stroking him and drawing a groan of pleasure from Danny._

_He closed his eyes and bent to capture her mouth in a kiss laced with intense longing and desire. Taking her gently by the wrists, Danny stilled her hands and freed his manhood from her grasp._

"_What's the matter, baby?" she asked. "Don't you like that?"_

"_Yeah, I do," Danny growled, moving his lips to her neck. His rough stubble against her bare skin sent shivers of arousal skittering down Lindsay's spine. "But you're driving me crazy here, Montana. You gotta lose the clothes, babe. I wanna touch you."_

_Lindsay lay back against the covers and smiled alluringly up at him, her brown eyes issuing an unspoken invitation for him to take the lead, to unwrap her and enjoy her body as she had done his. As his hands gently began to peel away her layers of clothing, Lindsay closed her eyes, sighing with contentment as he worshiped every inch of skin as it was exposed. _

_She'd never felt so desired, so wanted, as she did in that moment. Although she couldn't pinpoint what was different about tonight – why she had suddenly needed to break down the wall she'd built around herself and finally let Danny in – she knew it would be a night she would never forget. _

"_Mmm… Danny, that feels so good," she moaned, arching her back as his hands caressed her bare breasts, flicking and teasing her nipples. She tangled her fingers in his hair as his mouth closed over her breast, sucking and nipping at her tender peak. A delicious tingling began to spread from her core as she felt his fingers fumbling with the zipper of her pants and she let out a gasp of shock at his sudden roughness when he tore the garment violently from her legs._

"_Ow! Danny…mmph!"_

_His mouth sealed over hers silenced her protests and she placed her hands on his biceps, her fingers digging into his flesh as she tried to push him off of her, but it was no use. He was so much stronger than she. Silent tears streamed down Lindsay's face as her legs were forced apart and she felt calloused fingers roughly probing her most intimate area. She didn't understand. How could he do this? This wasn't the Danny she knew, the man she had come to care for so deeply. Danny would never take advantage of her trust like this… would he?_

"_Please… please stop," she begged. "Please don't do this. I don't want it… Not like this."_

_A low sinister chuckle caused her blood to turn cold in her veins. _

"_What's your problem, girly?" She recognized that voice. "I told ya I was gonna show you a good time, Lindsay Monroe from Montana." Fingers intruded inside of her, delving deeply and painfully into her core, heedless of her cries of protest. "Mmm… And your little pussy is so fucking tight. I'm really gonna enjoy this."_

A blood curdling scream burst forth from Lindsay's lips and her eyes flew open to reveal the all-encompassing darkness once again. She thrashed against her unseen attacker, her limbs colliding painfully with the confining walls of her casket. Eric Delorsio's face still loomed over her in her mind's eye and she could hear his taunting cackle echoing menacingly in her ears. Her chest heaving, she greedily sucked in lungful after lungful of thick, stale air, leaving her breathless and lightheaded as she awoke from her horrifying dream to the waking nightmare of her reality.

Covering her face with her hands, Lindsay sobbed in earnest. She was all too aware of the fact that the oxygen level in her tiny cell was becoming dangerously low and it was only a matter of time before she would fall into unconsciousness before her lungs gave out.

So engrossed was she in her misery that Lindsay almost missed it. She held her breath, listening carefully. She heard it again.

Voices.

Muffled by the piles of dirt and gravel Delorsio had used to cover her untimely grave, they were faint but Lindsay could just make out two… no, three distinct voices. Men's voices. Their words were lost to her through the filter of the earth above her, but their tones were angry. They were shouting.

"Hey!" she cried out, pounding her bloodied fists against the lid of her makeshift coffin. "Hey! I'm in here! Get me out of here!"

Her hands flew to her mouth, stifling her scream as she heard the unmistakable sound of a gunshot, then another.

Then there was only silence.

* * *

**Whew! Finally got through that one. **

**I wanted to apologize for the delay in posting this chapter. I had the bones of it sketched out almost immediately after posting the last chapter, but there were a lot of case details that just didn't want to cooperate with me and it took a lot longer than I expected to get it right. Still wishing I had more time, but I really want to move on so I've decided to stop obsessing and post it before I overanalyze the thing to death. **

**As always, I hope you enjoyed spending time with this story. More updates will come as time permits, although I am once again crazy busy with little time to set aside for writing. **

**Your comments, thoughts and critiques are most welcome so please feel free to leave a review. They really do mean the world to me, and I appreciate each one that you folks send my way!**

***rhymes***


	22. From Out of the Darkness

**A/N: Hey all! Tired of dangling from that cliff yet? Well lucky you, I've got another chapter ready and waiting for you! Thank you so much to those of you who keep coming back chapter after chapter! And special thanks to _Alex Joleta, mckenzie, CTI-Jenn, afrozenheart412, KTmac09, alexindigo, bookworm, Aveo amacus, webdlfan, laurzz, SunnyCitrus10, Daisy1966,_ and _Izzi Creo_ for leaving your reviews. Your feedback is invaluable!**

**I originally intended to post this chapter last weekend but unfortunately it just didn't get finished in time. As you can tell by the word count, it's a bit of a doozy! There are a lot of things that needed to be addressed in this chapter and I didn't want to rush through it. I know it's like... massively long and ****I briefly contemplating breaking it up into two – or even three – smaller chapters. But I think it works pretty well as one. It's by far the longest single chapter I've ever written and I hope it's not too convoluted or confusing.**

**I've tried to catch the spelling/grammar errors, but alas I'm only human and this is one long mother of a chapter so please forgive any little slips you may find ;)**

**With that said, curl up in your favourite chair, make yourself comfy, and enjoy!**

* * *

Danny sat in the backseat of Flack's sleek black sedan, his head resting against the cool glass of the window. His eyes were open, but he barely registered the images of New York City whizzing past him as Flack expertly steered the car through the streets with sirens blaring toward their destination. His mind was firmly focused on the small, fragile figure he'd seen in the chilling photograph Delorsio had sent him. He was very aware of the fact that the sadistic bastard had sent it to him in the hope of garnering some sort of reaction and he couldn't help but feel that his angry outburst in the lab and his insistence on accompanying the team to Delorsio's lair was playing right into the psychopath's plans. But at this moment in time, he didn't care. All that mattered was getting to her, to Lindsay.

He knew that even if they found her, that image would haunt him for the rest of his life. It was etched into his memory and for as long as he lived, he would never be able to forget seeing the woman that he loved laid bare in so disgusting and humiliating a manner. She was so beautiful, so delicate… how anyone could justify the bruises and marks on her body was beyond him. And he knew that the psychological damage done by Delorsio would be far worse. The man had a knack for mind games, for finding a person's deepest fear and exploiting it to his own advantage. Hadn't he done the same thing with Danny after attacking him in the Avalanche? He'd carefully watched them while he'd lain in wait, gathering information on Danny's weaknesses. And when the moment had been right, he'd pounced, using his feelings for Lindsay against him.

_I guess I'll have to satisfy myself with that sweet little girly of yours… I'll take good care of her, Messer. Let her know what it's like to be with a real man._

Closing his eyes, Danny let out a sigh, his hot breath causing the window against which he leaned to fog up. How was he supposed to live with himself knowing that he'd made it possible for that sick monster to carry out his promise? He'd touched her, the bruises evident in the photograph proved that. And as for his other claim… Danny shuddered and his chest constricted painfully at the mere thought of any part of Delorsio penetrating her so intimately. During their limited sexual encounters, Danny had found Lindsay's body so warm and inviting. But she was indeed tight, fitting so snugly around his manhood that he'd wondered whether her body had been made for him and him alone. The thought of anyone else touching her in that way – especially if the touches were unwanted and had been forced on her…

Tears began to prick at the corners of his eyes. He wanted nothing more that to hold her again, to lovingly kiss each and every bruise until they had faded into a distant memory. He'd only just found her, only just gotten his long awaited chance with her, and he couldn't bear the thought of having her taken from him forever.

Adding to his misery, the weight of his conversation with Lindsay's mother still sat heavily in the pit of his stomach. He'd promised that if the worst happened and they found Lindsay too late… He had no idea how he was supposed to go about telling a mother that she'd never get to see her child again. He didn't even want to think about it. The sheer idea of never seeing her again made him feel sick to his stomach and the prospect of making the promised phone call was too painful to contemplate.

In the front seat, Mac sat silently mulling things over in his head. Danny's words up in the lab had haunted him, and he'd pulled Flack aside as they were about to get into the car. He stared unseeingly out the front window as he thought back to their conversation…

-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-

"_What did he mean about making a promise to Lindsay's mom?" he asked._

_Flack palmed his hand over his face, glancing quickly at his friend already settled in the back seat before he looked back at Mac. "Lindsay's mom called while Danny was by himself in his office. She didn't know, Mac. She was looking for Lindsay and Danny…" Flack shook his head sadly, "He couldn't lie to her. He told her she was missing, but kept the worst of the details to himself."_

"_Jesus," Mac groaned, hanging his head. "I should have called her. I should have… but I was so caught up in finding Lindsay that I didn't think… Shit. God dammit!" He slammed his fist against the roof of Flack's car, angry with himself for being so careless. Lindsay was a member of his staff and a valued friend. How could he have shirked his duties to her and her family like this? He turned back to Flack. "He said he promised her something. What did he promise?"_

_Flack's face fell. "He promised that if we didn't find Lindsay in time…" He trailed off and shrugged his shoulders helplessly. "She said she didn't want to hear it from a stranger."_

_Mac's brow creased pensively for a moment while he considered Flack's words. "What's that supposed to mean? When would Danny have… I didn't know Lindsay's parents had been to New York."_

_Flack sighed. "You remember when Danny went MIA for a few days while Lindsay was back in Montana for the trial?" Mac inclined his head in the affirmative. "Well… Danny hasn't said anything, but as best I can figure, he went out there to be with her."_

_Despite the grim circumstances, Mac couldn't help the small smile that tugged at his mouth. He remembered sending Danny home after the young detective had become unbearably grumpy and snappish with both himself and the rest of the team. Exhausted beyond his limits, Mac had been so sure Danny had spent those few days passed out in his apartment. But apparently that hadn't been the case. Mac shook his head in disbelief. If he'd needed proof that there was something more than mild flirtation going on between the native New Yorker and the Montanan transplant, here it was staring him baldly in the face._

_Another memory niggled at the back of his mind. He'd called Lindsay the other morning and heard a man's voice in the background. He'd thought nothing of it at the time, save for a sense of regret at waking her far too early and possibly interrupting something with her bedmate. He now realized that said bedmate had been Danny and he was hit by the full impact of her mangled clothes and the mysterious picture Delorsio had sent. Although neither Stella nor Danny had been willing to elaborate on the picture, Mac had drawn his own conclusions as to what it had contained. Delorsio was a skilled manipulator and it was clear that he was intent upon causing Danny as much pain as humanly possible. He had a sinking feeling that Delorsio wasn't finished inflicting pain. Not by a long shot._

-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-

Mac glanced surreptitiously over his shoulder at the huddled figure in the back seat. Danny hadn't said a word since he'd gotten in the car and Mac hadn't wanted to push him to talk when he was so clearly distraught. He could only imagine the hurt and heartache – not to mention guilt - the young man must be going through right now and he hadn't wanted to add to it. But they were quickly approaching the abandoned building site and it was time he talked with Danny about some ground rules once they arrived.

"Danny?"

Drawing in a shaky breath, Danny raised his head from the window and looked at Mac. His eyes were glistening with unshed tears and his face was a mask of pain.

"Yeah?" Danny asked, sniffling and wiping at his eyes with the sleeve of his coat.

"We're almost there," Mac informed him, watching as Danny's eyes darted to the side window, taking in the familiar streets of his childhood neighbourhood. Although Hawkes had mentioned in the lab that they were headed to Staten Island, Danny hadn't yet asked for any details of their exact destination. Mac could see the startled look on his face as he realized where they were. "I need you to listen to me, Danny. Things are bound to get a little crazy once we get inside and I need to make sure that every member of my team leaves that building safe and in one piece."

Danny mumbled an agreement to his statement, so Mac continued. "I've let you come this far, and I know how much this means to you. I'm counting on you to keep your head, Danny. You cannot – I repeat, _cannot_ – go running off on your own under any circumstances," he stated seriously. Danny turned to face him, his expression solemn as he nodded his head. "I've talked to the head of the ESU team. We're going to enter the building and complete a full sweep, breaking up into two teams. The first team will take the first floor and team two will take the second. Once we're sure those two are clear, we will move on to floors three and four. We will continue to leapfrog each other until we're certain the entire building is clear, or we've found Delorsio and Lindsay – whichever happens first. I've got two unis - Morris and Jennings - stationed out back. You and Flack will remain outside at the front entrance to the building. You are to stay in Don's line of sight at all times. No exceptions. Do you understand?"

"I got it, Mac," Danny replied, his voice far stronger than he felt. Now that his initial anger at seeing the haunting Polaroid had left him, he felt uneasy. He was hurting – physically, mentally, emotionally – and the last thing he wanted was to become a liability in the team's search for Lindsay and her captor. He was slow on his feet, his injuries causing his usually quick reflexes to become sluggish and clumsy. He didn't want to be the reason that Delorsio got away. As grateful as he was that Mac had allowed him to come, he was more than a little relieved to know that Flack would be close by.

* * *

Rounding a corner, Flack brought the car to a stop amid a swarm of emergency response vehicles. Ambulances, fire trucks, and the Emergency Services Unit van along with several of the lab's Avalanches littered the street. They were still about a block from the building site, but Mac and the ESU commander had decided on a stealthy approach, not wanting to give Delorsio advanced warning of their arrival. They would go the remaining distance on foot.

"You sure you're alright, Dan?" Flack asked when Danny let out a groan as he eased himself from the backseat of the car. "You're still looking a little pale."

"You try getting stabbed and then driving full throttle into a brick wall and see how good you look after," Danny replied irritably. He accepted one of the Kevlar vests Mac was handing out to the team, wincing as he raised it over his head and fastened the Velcro straps over his shoulders and around his waist.

"You don't have to do this," Flack said quietly, stepping closer to his friend so the others wouldn't overhear. "We would all understand. You've been through a lot, Danny. You don't need to put yourself through this if you're not up to it."

The look Danny gave him would have made a lesser man wither. "I know you mean well, Don," he said, pulling on his warm hooded sweater and zipping it up over the vest, "But I gotta be there. Lindsay needs me and if… no, _when_ we find her I don't want anyone else seeing her like that." His voice cracked with emotion and Flack placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Besides," he continued, bending down to check the backup weapon he kept in his ankle holster, "I got a score to settle with Delorsio. He hurts me, that's one thing. But he hurts Lindsay… that's something completely different."

"Danny, don't make the mistake of making this about revenge," Flack warned, grabbing Danny and turning him so they were face to face. "I'm serious, Messer. You're here for Lindsay, you got that? You leave Delorsio to the rest of us and concentrate on her. If you can't do that I swear to God I will cuff you to my car and leave you here. Is that what you want?"

Sullenly, Danny shook his head. "No," he replied.

"Then you stick with me and forget about that whack job," Flack reiterated. He looked over at Mac who was watching the pair of them warily. "We're good, Mac," Flack said as he led Danny over to where the team had assembled, readying themselves to begin their assault on Delorsio's lair.

* * *

Darkness was falling now as Danny stared up at the building looming over him on the other side of the fence. _19 years._ It had been 19 years since he'd last stood in this spot. He could recall that fateful night so clearly in his mind's eye, as if it had been only yesterday that he'd been a small boy, tearing like mad through those gates with Tommy close on his heals. Lacing his fingers through the wire rungs of the fencing, he hung his head. He had been so innocent back then, completely unaware of the pain and heartache awaiting him all these years later. He felt a sudden pang of loss for Tommy. They had been so close at the time, but he realized that their secret – what had happened to them in this place nearly twenty years ago – had caused a distance to form between them. Because neither of them had wanted to talk about it, they'd grown farther and farther apart until finally they were nothing more than acquaintances, familiar faces that nodded at one another and exchanged small talk on the rare occasions that saw them both in the same place at the same time. Tightening his fingers' grip on the fence, Danny swore under his breath. His friendship with Tommy was just one more thing Delorsio had taken from him.

Walking the few blocks to the abandoned building site, Mac had given Danny and Flack the bare details as to how they had come to determine Delorsio's whereabouts. There had been something about gravel but Danny hadn't really paid much attention, being more concerned about what they would find upon their arrival than the whys and hows of the investigation. His attention had been caught when Mac mentioned the word _Valhalla_. Hawkes had mentioned it too, back in the lab and Danny had brushed off the comment without a second thought. However, now it lingered uneasily in the back of his mind. He couldn't quite place where he'd heard it before, but for some reason it resonated with him.

"Alright, buddy. You and me," Flack said, coming up beside Danny and clapping him gently on the back. They stepped back from the fence, allowing the ESU team to swarm through the gates ahead of them, fanning out and disappearing into the murky shadows of the building, silently surrounding it before giving the signal for Mac and his team to follow. Danny longed to surge forward ahead of everyone else but Flack held him back and together they walked slowly toward the dilapidated building. There were no longer any signs of the lush wilderness that had once covered the area, save for a few scraggly trees and bushes. A car was parked in front of the building – a dark blue sedan – with the front and back driver's side doors as well as the trunk flung wide open.

"Chloroform," Hawkes said, carefully wafting the fumes from a small bottle found in the backseat up to his face. "He probably used it to subdue her."

"Duct tape," Stella murmured, holding up the remnants of the roll found in the trunk. "The tire iron he used on Anderson, and…" she leaned over the trunk and picked up something long and thin, "… a shovel."

"Leave them there for now," Mac instructed. "We'll bag them on our way out." He turned to Danny. "We're going in now," he said. "Keep your earpieces in because we're not going over the handheld radios; we don't want Delorsio to hear us."

Danny and Flack nodded their understanding, both of them inserting the radio ear buds into their ears and checking that they were on the right frequency.

Mac placed his hand on Danny's shoulder, giving him an appraising once-over before offering a small smile. "Everything is going to be okay, Danny."

"Sure it is," Danny replied, his voice indicating that he didn't necessarily share in Mac's optimism. "Good luck."

Mac nodded, his glance flickering between Flack and Danny before he turned and disappeared inside the building.

* * *

Stella directed the beam of her flashlight on the floor ahead of her, sweeping it to the left and right as she made her way down the hall of the third floor. Her team had already cleared the ground floor and had moved up two flights. All the other rooms had been cleared, but there was still one door left unopened down at the end of the hall.

Reaching out, Stella grabbed the knob and gave it a twist, gently pushing the door open before she stepped into the doorway and peered inside. She checked her blind spots before entering fully and completing a full sweep of the suite. As with the others she had checked, this suite appeared to be vacant and unfurnished. The floors were concrete and it smelled of mould and damp. The door to the lone bedroom was ajar and Stella nudged it open further with her shoulder. The room was small and dingy and the smell of mould was almost overwhelming here. Along the far wall hung a pair of grungy curtains and a matted and grimy rug covered most of the concrete floor. Stella let out a gasp when her eyes fell upon the filthy mattress which was shoved along the side wall and a sturdy wooden chair sat dead centre in the middle of the room.

She could hear other members of the team entering the suite behind her and he turned to see Mac approaching, the light of his flashlight bobbing as he walked.

"Find something?" he asked.

Stella nodded her head. "I'm glad Danny's downstairs."

"Why?"

"Because he doesn't need to see this," Stella said quietly, leading Mac further into the room. "I recognize the mattress from the picture Delorsio sent to him. Mac, this is where he kept her."

Taking out his ALS light, Mac shone it over the mattress. Sporadic patches glowed a bright blue in response to the light. "There are indications of bodily fluids all over this thing," he sighed, shooting Stella a worried glance. She hadn't yet shared the contents of that photograph with him, but he knew that whatever she had seen, it had traumatized both her and Danny. And judging by the stains on the mattress, he could only imagine what his young detective from Montana had been through at the hands of Delorsio. "But it… this might not be from Lindsay. We won't now for sure until we take samples."

Stella refused to linger over the mattress, choosing instead to circle the room. She bent down next to the chair. "Lindsay's purse," she explained when Mac crouched down next to her. "Her gun is gone," she noted before her face crumpled. "She was here, Mac! She was here and now… Shit." She lowered her head and quickly swiped at her eyes. Mac placed his hand on her shoulder, giving what he hoped was a comforting squeeze while he let his flashlight play over the rest of the room looking for any evidence that might lead to Lindsay's current whereabouts. A flash of something shiny in the corner caught his attention.

"I think these are her cuffs," he said, moving over the exposed radiator along the wall. Sitting back on his haunches, Mac's stomach lurched at the puddle of vomit and the droplets of blood on the floor beside the radiator. He shook his head as he stood, unwilling and unable to stand being in the small room where his friend and colleague had obviously endured so much pain. "Son of a bitch," he muttered under his breath as he emerged into the hallway once more with Stella close on his heels. He turned to her, his eyes a fierce steely grey. "I swear to God… when we find that bastard..."

"I know, Mac," Stella soothed. "I know." She pressed the button on her radio unit. "Third floor, all clear," she said before taking Mac by the arm and leading him back down the hall toward the stairs.

* * *

"Adam, come on!" Hawkes urged his jittery young friend.

"I don't like this," Adam replied, following Hawkes down the hall of the fourth floor. Members of the ESU moved silently around them as they checked yet another level of the building. "There's a reason I don't go out into the field. I miss my computers. I miss my lab with all of its bright lights. I don't like this stumbling around in the dark not knowing who or what is behind every door."

"Just remember who you're doing this for, Adam," Hawkes reminding him, peering around the doorframe of yet another empty suite. "You're here for Lindsay. You know she would do the same for you, not matter how uncomfortable it made her feel."

"Yeah, I know," Adam replied nervously. "I'll just be so glad when we find her and this is all over."

Hawkes regarded him thoughtfully as they entered the last suite on the fourth floor. "You really think it's gonna be that easy?" he asked. "Just bring Lindsay back and boom… everything is alright again?"

"Well… no," Adam capitulated. "I didn't mean that. I just… I meant… God. I don't like this. I hope she's okay."

"Me too, buddy," Hawkes agreed solemnly. "Me too." He nodded at the head of their accompanying ESU squad, depressing the button on his radio unit. "Fourth floor, all clear."

* * *

It was freezing in the elevator shaft, cold and dark and un-insulated. But it mattered little to Delorsio. He'd scoured the building for a suitable hiding space and after disposing of his captive, he'd retreated to the sanctuary of the shaft, cramming himself into the small space behind the skeleton of the partially assembled elevator mechanisms while he waited. He knew it was unlikely that anyone would find him here; he'd been careful when he replaced the access panel and even if someone did think to remove it and check the area behind, he was all but invisible when he crouched down. His theory had proved correct when he'd heard the door to the adjoining maintenance room open and voices talking in hushed tones before the footsteps had faded away followed by the sound of numerous people tromping their way upstairs to check the other floors.

Releasing the breath he'd been holding, Delorsio slowly began to creep out of his hiding place, his limbs aching from having been locked into one position for so long. He reaffirmed his grip on the gun he'd taken from the purse of Lindsay Monroe.

Pausing to listen once again, he waited until he was certain he could hear no movement on his floor. He quietly removed the access panel from the wall and stepped into the maintenance room and began to slink down the hall toward the door. Now all he had to do was find Messer; there was no doubt in his mind that he would be there. The man had been willing to end his own life, plowing into a brick wall in order to spare Lindsay Monroe from a fate worse than death. There was no way he would stay away after he'd been baited so perfectly.

Delorsio sighed. It really was the only flaw in his plan. He hadn't been there to see the look on Messer's face when he opened that box. But no matter. Messer would more than make it up to him now. He'd beg for the life of his little girlfriend and then Delorsio would get to see his face as he realized she was beyond saving. And then he'd watch as the pathetic little wretch took his last breath.

He walked slowly down the hallway toward the front door. He could see two cops in uniforms standing a few feet from the door with their backs to the building. He tucked his gun into the pocket of his sweater and bent down to retrieve a piece of lead piping laying on the ground at his feet before he approached the door. Slowly and stealthily, he inched it open, waiting with baited breath for it to creak and give away his presence. But the night remained silent, the only sound the soft chirping of crickets somewhere off in the distance.

He caught the first cop in the back of the head. There was a sickening crack as the lead pipe collided with his skull and he dropped to the ground in a heap. The other cop stared wide eyed at Delorsio, one hand moving to the radio unit on his hip while the other raised his gun. With one swing of the pipe, Delorsio disarmed him and the frightened young man let out a yelp of pain, cradling his broken fingers as he stumbled backward, tripping over his own feet and landing flat on his back as Delorsio stalked toward him.

He raised the pipe again and brought it down on the man's knee, feeling the metal connect with muscle and bone. The man howled in pain and Delorsio smiled maliciously down at his victim, savouring the power he held over him as he tossed aside the pipe and withdrew his gun from his pocket, intending to put a bullet right between the frightened youngster's eyes. But he needed a little information first.

"Where's Messer?" he asked, pressing the muzzle of his gun against the young man's forehead. "Is he here?"

"Go to hell," the officer shot back through teeth gritted in pain. Glancing down at the officer's name tag, Delorsio twisted the gun deeper into his forehead.

"Morris, is it? You'll have to speak up, son. I didn't hear you," Delorsio replied coolly.

"I said fuck you," Morris replied.

"Fine. Have it your way," Delorsio growled, drawing back his hand and slamming the butt of his gun against the man's wounded knee, earning himself a wail of excruciating agony. "Shut up, you little pussy," he hissed. "Now, tell me where Messer is and I'll make all of your pain go away."

Frightened eyes stared back at him, and Morris frantically shook his head. "H-he's not… he's not here."

"_Don't_ lie to me," Delorsio warned.

"I'm… I'm not…" Morris panted. "I-I promise!"

"Where is he?" Delorsio roared, grabbing the man by the front of his shirt and giving him a vicious shake. "Tell me or I'll fucking kill you!"

* * *

"Ninth floor cleared," a voice crackled over the radio. "Still no sign of the suspect. We're heading up to eleven."

"Roger that," came another voice. "Tenth floor all clear. Moving on to twelve."

"Shit," Danny muttered, shaking his head and leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He'd started out pacing back and forth in front of the door where he and Flack had been posted but his body had soon balked at the constant movement and he'd sunk down onto a cinder block, giving in to his exhaustion. Now he ran his fingers agitatedly through his hair. "This is so fucking stupid. He's not in there, Flack. This is just… where the fuck is he? And Lindsay? Where is she?"

"Take it easy, Dan," Flack whispered back. Exhaustion was evident on his face as well and he was leaning back against the wall beside the door. "He'll turn up. He has to."

"I'm sick of waiting!" Danny complained, getting to his feet and starting to pace once again. "You heard them; they're searching the twelfth floor now… that's the top, Flack. There's no more after that! He's not fucking here! We've wasted all this time getting here and searching this damn building. What if he's got her somewhere else? What if…"

"Shh!" Flack shushed Danny, pushing himself off the wall and holding up his finger to silence him. He listened intensely, his head cocked to one side as he strained his ears. "You hear that?" he asked, turning to face Danny.

Danny shook his head. 'No, man. I didn't hear anything," he replied.

"Could've sworn I heard… kinda like, I don't know… like somebody yelling or something. Sounded like it came from out back," Flack said. He pressed the button on his radio. "Morris, Jennings… how's it looking back there?" he asked. When there was no answer after several long seconds, Flack asked again. "Morris and Jennings; check in. How're you doing? You see anything out back?"

Silence.

"Maybe they got their radios on the wrong frequency," Danny whispered, although the knot that had suddenly formed in the pit of his stomach told him that was not the case. He moved one hand to his holster, flipping the catch and wrapping his fingers around the grip of his gun.

"No. I heard them check in earlier," Flack replied, his expression tense and his tone tight and controlled. "Fuck. Why aren't they answering?"

A scream of pain ripped through the quiet of the night.

"Shit. I heard that," Danny whispered.

"It's coming from around back," Flack said, drawing his gun. He glanced at Danny who had extracted his weapon from its holster, his hands trembling and his eyes wide with fear. Flack had only a few seconds to make a decision, although none of his options seemed like the right one. He could radio up to Mac and the others and wait for them to descend from the upper floors of the building or he could check it out for himself. It would take at least a few minutes for the team to reach the ground floor from their current position and he didn't want to risk letting Delorsio get away, but Danny… he didn't know if Danny was as ready to face Delorsio as he seemed to think. It wasn't just his hands now, but Danny's entire body was practically vibrating with fear. Reaching out, Flack gripped Danny firmly by the shoulders, staring him square in the eye.

"You stay behind me, Danny. You got that?" he asked, his eyes searching those of his friend. "If it's Delorsio… you leave him to me. Do you understand?"

Danny swallowed hard, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm his shattered nerves. Finally he gave a quick nod of his head. "Yeah, I got it."

"Alright," Flack said. He gave Danny's shoulders a squeeze. "It's gonna be okay. You're gonna be okay." Then he released Danny from his grasp and made radio contact with Mac. "Mac, we may have a situation down here," he said quietly as he began to slide along the wall toward the corner.

"What kind of situation?" came Mac's worried reply.

"Morris and Jennings are non-responsive and we heard a disturbance out back. We're gonna check it out."

"We just cleared the top floor and we're coming down now," Mac said, and Flack could hear Stella's voice in the background shouting instructions to the team above, directing them to start heading downstairs. "Keep your distance," Mac warned. "If it's Delorsio, maintain a visual but do not engage him until we get there unless it's absolutely necessary. And remember, Don… we need him alive. Lindsay is not in this building and he's the only one who knows where she is."

"Got it," Flack replied. His back pressed against the wall, Flack peered cautiously around the corner. There was no movement along the side of the building and he gestured to Danny to follow him as he slunk toward the next corner… toward the back. As he approached the end of the wall, he slowed his steps, mindful of the sound the gravel made as it crunched beneath the soles of his shoes. He held his breath, listening intently for any sound, any sign of movement up ahead.

"I wanna know, you little shit," an unseen voice hissed from around the corner. Hearing it sent a ripple of fear coursing down Flack's spine. He recognized Delorsio's voice from their brief telephone conversation when he'd abducted Lindsay. "And you're gonna tell me!"

"G-go to hell," came the reply, the voice weak and barely above a whisper.

"Fuck you!" Delorsio roared. "I'm gonna count to three and you're either gonna tell me, or you're gonna die! One…"

Flack inched closer to the end of the wall, taking a deep, steadying breath. He glanced over his shoulder at Danny. "Stay here," he said quietly. "Wait for Mac and the others."

Danny opened his mouth as if to argue but quickly snapped it shut again, nodding once to show that he understood.

"…two…"

"Freeze!" Launching himself around the corner, Flack raised his gun, his sights set on Delorsio. "Drop it, Delorsio. I mean it! Put the gun down!"

"Well, well, well," Delorsio chuckled, reaffirming his grip on Morris and crouching down behind the injured officer, using his body as a shield and pressing his gun against the young man's temple. "What do we got here? You're Messer's pal, ain't ya?"

"Look," Flack said, taking slow, careful steps forward, not wanting to spook Delorsio, "I don't want anyone else to get hurt, okay? So just… just put your gun down and let him go."

Delorsio let out a snort of derision. "See, that's the difference between you and me," he replied, a malevolent grin spreading across his face. "I don't give a rat's ass if someone else gets hurt. You take another step and I'm gonna put a bullet right through this poor bastard's brains. So why don't _you_ put _your_ gun down? You do that and maybe I'll think about letting ol' Morris here go."

"That's not gonna happen and you know it," Flack replied, shuffling a step closer.

"I said stop moving!" Delorsio roared. "You think I'm fucking joking? You've seen the things I've done; you think I give a crap about this little fucker? I'll kill him!"

"Look, man," Flack said, "You and I both know this is gonna end one of two ways… you going quietly in cuffs or you going quietly in a body bag. I'm gonna give you one more chance to let Officer Morris go and then I'm gonna have to shoot you."

His eyes flashing with hatred, Delorsio tightened his hold on Morris and shook his head. "You just don't get it, do you?" he snarled. "This only ends when Messer is dead. So you bring that little shit out here and let me put a bullet in his pretty little head and I'll happily let Morris go."

"Not happening," Flack shook his head. "Messer's not here. And in about one minute thirty armed police officers are gonna come swarming out of that building and I think they're gonna be a lot quicker with the trigger than I am when they see what you've done to two of their men. So now it's my turn to count to three. I want you face down, on the ground with your hands behind your head. One…"

Seeing that Flack was deadly serious and hearing the thundering of footsteps nearing from inside the building, Delorsio knew that he was trapped. Either the tall dark-haired cop or the hoard approaching from within would get him and he knew they wouldn't shoot to kill. They'd shoot to disarm him, then drag him back to the hell hole where he had spent 19 long years plotting his revenge, leaving him to wallow in his misery when his plan had gone horribly awry at the eleventh hour. He decided that if he was going to go, he was going to do it on his terms.

"…two…"

Pushing Morris to the ground in front of him, Delorsio raised the gun to his own temple.

"She's gone, you know," he said. "The lady cop… Messer's girlfriend? After I was done with her, I got rid of her, just like I did with all the others."

"You're lying," Flack replied, tightening his grip on his gun. "She's here and we're gonna find her."

"I know you can here me, Messer," Delorsio continued, talking loudly, his voice carrying through the still of the night air. "Wherever you're hiding like the coward I know you are, you can here me. Your pretty little girl moaned like a whore when I took her, did you know that?" he called out, his thin lips curling into a wicked smile. "The little slut spread her legs and begged me for it. Said I was the best she'd ever had… and she felt so good, Messer; her tight little pussy so sweet and wet for me…"

"Shut up!" Flack shouted. "Shut the fuck up, you sick motherfucker!"

The smile on Delorsio's face morphed into a malicious sneer. "The only thing missing was Leo," he said almost wistfully. "Mr. V… he would've liked Lindsay Monroe from Montana. He had a thing for girls with brown eyes. Betcha didn't know that, did ya, Messer? You didn't know that your beloved Mr. V liked 'em young? That he'd pick 'em and I'd lure 'em in… and when he was done with 'em, I'd have a go so he could watch."

The footsteps from inside the building were getting closer now. They were on the ground floor. They were coming. His finger twitched against the trigger.

Seeing the slight movement of Delorsio's finger, Flack reacted, his gun going off in his hand. Time seemed to slow down and he could see the bullet's path as it tore through the air, Delorsio's body recoiling at the impact of the projectile as it blasted through his shoulder, causing his arms to flail. In a spasm of pain, his fingers retracted and his own gun went off. Flack threw himself to the ground at the sight and sound of the second gunshot, Delorsio's bullet whizzing only a few feet above his head.

Recovering quickly, Flack got to his feet, kicking Delorsio's gun from his hand and out of reach before he bent over the crumpled heap on the ground, his hands moving to cover the gaping hole in his shoulder.

"Fuck off and let me die," Delorsio growled, using his good arm to try and shove Flack away.

"As much as I'd love to see you rot in hell," Flack replied, moving to straddle Delorsio and pinning him to the ground so he could apply more pressure to the wound, "I'm not about to give you the satisfaction. You don't get to take the easy way out; not after what you've done. Now shut the fuck up. I'm sick of listening to all your goddamn bullshit."

"Don!"

Flack looked up as the doors to the building flew open and Mac emerged, followed closely by Stella, Adam, Hawkes and the rest of the team from inside.

"I'm fine, Mac. Danny's around the side of the building and Delorsio here was about to tell me where he's keeping Lindsay, weren't you?" He dug his fingers into the flesh around Delorsio's bullet wound, causing the man beneath him to writhe and scream in agony. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that," he growled at Delorsio, "I don't speak psychotic prick. Where is she?"

"Messer," Delorsio groaned, "I want to see Messer. I'll tell him; but only him."

Exchanging looks with Mac, Flack nodded his head.

"Fine," Mac said, before he raised his voice. "Danny!"

* * *

Concealed around the corner, Danny heard every word. Every goddamn word Delorsio said rang painfully in his ears. Visions of Lindsay trapped beneath Delorsio as he forced himself on her filled his mind and he coiled his hands into tight fists, pressing them hard against his eyes in an attempt to rid himself of the horrifying mental picture. He choked back a sob of anguish. If she was still alive, would she be the same vivacious, lively girl he'd fallen in love with? Or would she be a shell of her former self? Would she ever want to see him again? To speak to him, knowing that it was because of him that she had been violated by this monster?

"The only thing missing was Leo."

Danny's head snapped up. What?

"Mr. V… he would've liked Lindsay Monroe from Montana. He had a thing for girls with brown eyes…"

No. That couldn't be possible. It wasn't true. It couldn't be.

Collapsing back against the wall, Danny's whole world shattered. Leo Vanzella… Mr. V… _Valhalla_. Something clicked in his brain; a memory was starting to resurface. That's where he'd seen it before. His mind flashed back to his childhood. He'd started working in Leo Vanzella's store only a few weeks earlier to help his mother pay for his new glasses; he would have been ten years old at the time…

o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-

_Leo Vanzella flipped the lock on the front door of his small corner store and turned off the neon 'Open' sign in the front window. Business hours were over. He turned and smiled at Danny who was busy stocking the shelves in the canned foods section._

"_Well, that's another day done," he said, rounding counter and beginning to ring out the till. "Another day, another dollar, right Danny?"_

"_Right, Mr. Vanzella," Danny replied as he placed the last can of Campbell's Cream of Tomato soup on the shelf. _

_Leo chuckled. "How many times do I have to tell you, Danny? Call me Leo. Or Mr. V. Mr. Vanzella is my father's name."_

"_Sorry, Mr. V," Danny replied, smiling shyly. "Um… you want me to sweep the floor before I go?"_

"_Nah," Leo replied, shaking his head as he grabbed the cash box from the till and set it on the counter. "Tommy can look after that in the morning. Just take the cash box to the back office for me and then you can go."_

"_Really?" Danny asked, pleased to be able to skip out of work a few minutes early and even more pleased to be given the responsibility of handling the cash from the till, something that the stock boys were usually never allowed to do. "Sure, Mr. V. I can do that."_

_Accepting the heavy cash box from his employer, Danny made his way back to the office, shouldering the door open and flipping on the light with his elbow. The office was usually strictly off limits to anyone but Leo himself. The small desk along the back wall was covered with a sea of papers and Danny glanced around, looking for a place to put the cash box that wouldn't be in Leo's way. Setting it down on a vacant chair, he carefully began to clear a space on the desk, picking up a few papers and trying not to look too closely at what was printed on them. He couldn't help thinking it strange that Mr. V would have what looked like plans for buildings in his office. But what did he know? He was only a kid and Mr. V was an important business man. If he wanted to look at drawings of buildings then that was his business._

_He was just about to set aside his neatly stacked pile of papers when he heard a sound behind him._

"_What are you doing, Danny?"_

_Mr. V's voice made him jump and Danny turned, his face going beet red at having been caught touching the older man's personal papers. _

"_Oh, um… I was j-just…" he stammered nervously, scuffing his foot against the linoleum floor as Mr. V loomed imposingly in the doorway, "I didn't want to wreck your papers so I thought… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… I didn't look."_

_Leo's features softened and he stepped into the room, taking the documents Danny had been holding and gathering up the others that littered his desk before he tucked them all into a drawer and locked it, placing the key in his pocket._

"_It's okay, Danny," he said, sitting down in the chair behind his desk. "I didn't mean to scare you. Just wondered what was taking you so long." _

"_Sorry, sir… I mean Mr. V," Danny apologized again. "Um… can I go now?"_

_Leo smiled. "Of course you can. Have a good night, Danny," he said. "I'll see you tomorrow after school."_

"_Okay," Danny said, turning to leave. He paused in the doorway. "Um, Mr. V?"_

"_What is it, Danny?"_

"_What does Valhalla mean?" he asked, his innate sense of curiosity getting the better of him. "I mean… I never heard that word before and it was on your papers..."_

_The smile faded from Leo Vanzella's face. "What you saw on these papers – on **my** papers – is none of your business. Now get out of here, Danny. Go home."_

_Swallowing the uncomfortable lump in his throat, Danny nodded his head. "Yes sir," he replied, turning and walking as quickly as his legs would carry him out of the office. Dashing behind the counter, Danny grabbed his backpack and his baseball cap before he let himself out the back, the door slamming shut and locking behind him. He grabbed his bike from the bike rack along the side of the store and got on. As he pedaled home through the quiet streets of his neighbourhood, he couldn't help but wonder what was so important about Valhalla. _

o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o-

Delorsio was still talking, his voice bringing Danny back to the present. "Betcha didn't know that, did ya, Messer? You didn't know that your beloved Mr. V liked 'em young? That he'd pick 'em and I'd lure 'em in… and when he was done with 'em, I'd have a go so he could watch."

Danny suddenly felt sick to his stomach. He doubled over and vomited, his guts spasming painfully as his stomach tried to rid itself of its nonexistent contents.

It couldn't possibly be true. But a little voice in the back of his head reminded him that the evidence didn't lie. Both Mac and Hawkes had mentioned the word Valhalla, so they must have had some idea that the buildings, the plans, Valhalla… It was all Leo. This building was Leo's. The land had belonged to him so he'd probably figured it would be a safe place to have Delorsio dispose of the bodies. No one else was supposed to be there that night, and no one would have ever known if Tommy and Danny hadn't ventured into the woods and caught him burying his – no, _their_ – latest victim.

The weight of that realization hit Danny like a ton of bricks. Tommy and Joanie, Sal Trombino; their deaths all led back to Leo Vanzella. He suddenly remembered that in the months following the incident in the woods, Leo had changed. Not much, not so that someone who didn't know him would notice. He became even more guarded and almost paranoid about his office, making it completely off-limits to anyone but himself; even Tommy was no longer allowed to venture within. And he started interrogating Danny – and Tommy too – about their friends. Did any of them ever go wandering around at night? Had any of them mentioned seeing anything strange – in the woods, maybe? Danny realized now that Leo had been fishing for information. Clearly Delorsio had informed him that their plans had been inadvertently sabotaged by a pair of kids; that Sal Trombino hadn't been walking his dog that night by accident.

And Lindsay… she was gone now because of Leo. His sadness was quickly overwhelmed by a profound rage. Losing her hurt all the more because of Leo Vanzella's betrayal. Gripping his gun, Danny steeled himself to round the corner and confront Delorsio. He wanted to punch the sickening smirk right off that twisted bastard's face. Taking a deep breath, Danny stepped out from behind the protective shield of the wall, just as a shot rang out. He saw a smattering of blood spring forth from Delorsio's shoulder as Flack's bullet found its mark. So focused was he on watching Delorsio's body flail that he heard the second gunshot too late. Flack had already thrown himself to the ground but Danny didn't react in time. He felt a searing pain in his side just below his right armpit and he stumbled backward, leaning back against the wall for support as he tried to assess the damage done by Delorsio's bullet.

"Fuck," he grimaced when he pulled his fingers from beneath his sweatshirt only to find them coated in blood. Delorsio's shot had caught him in a vulnerable spot not protected by his Kevlar vest. It was painful, but from what he could see, the blood flow wasn't too bad. Yet.

Familiar voices could be heard around the corner; Mac was there now, talking with Flack. They were trying to get Delorsio to divulge Lindsay's location, but he wasn't having any of it.

"Messer… I want to see Messer. I'll only tell him."

Danny shook his head. Delorsio wanted to have his fun, wanted to see the effect that his actions had had on him. But Danny resolved that he wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Straightening up, he wiped his bloodied hand on his dark sweater and took a deep breath, emerging from behind the wall just as Mac called for him. He walked slowly – and a bit shakily - toward the assembled group around the prone figures on the ground. Hawkes was bent over the two fallen officers, checking their vital signs and assessing their injuries while Stella was on her radio calling for the ambulances to get to the scene on the double.

"You okay?" Mac asked, placing his hand on Danny's shoulder.

Danny glared down at the pathetic figure on the ground before him and nodded his head. "You got me here," he spat at Delorsio. "Now tell me where she is."

"I knew you were here!" Delorsio practically crowed with glee, despite his current predicament. "You fucking little coward, letting your friends fight your battles for you!"

_Don't react_, Danny reminded himself. _It's what he wants. Don't play his game._

"Where is she?" he repeated. "Where's Lindsay?"

"In hell," Delorsio replied, grinning wickedly through his pain. "She's with all the other whores."

Mac could feel Danny tense and he redoubled his hold on his shoulder, ready to hold him back should he try to lash out at Delorsio. But Danny surprised him and simply smiled. "Then I know exactly where to look," he said. He looked up at the ESU team waiting with a stretcher adorned with shackles to hold Delorsio down. "Get this piece of shit outta my sight."

Shrugging off Mac's hand, Danny turned and began to wander out onto the barren land behind the building, pulling his penlight from his pocket.

"What? No! No! Messer, get back here!" Delorsio railed against the paramedics as they strapped him to the stretcher. "You don't know anything! You'll never find her! Fuck you! Get back here!"

"Danny?" Mac asked, catching up with him. "What are you doing?"

"The shovel," Danny replied absently, his eyes following the narrow beam of his flashlight as it danced across the hard-packed ground at his feet. "I'm gonna need the shovel from Delorsio's car."

"Danny, I don't think…"

"He kept saying it over and over again," Danny mused, more to himself than to Mac. "She's with the others. He got… he got rid of her, just like the others." Danny paused in his search and glanced up at Mac. "Do you remember what he did with the others? Because I do. I caught him red handed last time and he wants me to pay for it now."

Mac furrowed his brow, his mind in a whirl. Could it be? Aside from the room where Delorsio had kept her, they'd found no trace of the missing detective in their search of the building. But if he had buried her…

"Danny, let us look for her, okay?" Mac said quietly. "Come on… if we find anything out here, you don't… I don't think you need to see it."

Danny turned to face him, his eyes brimming with tears of remorse, of guilt, of a lost love. "I promised her mom, Mac. I promised her… I have to… it has to be me…"

Wiping at his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater, Danny dropped his gaze to the ground once more. Mac watched his slow progress for a moment before flicking on his own flashlight and moving off in another direction. Soon, every available pair of eyes was scouring the ground looking for some sign of upheaval in the soil. After what seamed like forever, Mac heard a voice cry out.

"Over here!"

Mac rushed to where Danny had dropped to his hands and knees, his tears flowing freely now as his fingers scraped away at the dirt. Directing his light over the area, Mac could see that a patch of earth roughly six feet long and three feet wide looked like it had been recently tilled. He called for the shovel before crouching down beside Danny and starting to help lift away handfuls of dirt. Flack came jogging up with the shovel and Mac and Stella managed to drag Danny backward a few feet, giving Flack room to work.

* * *

"Please…" Lindsay rasped, her voice long gone now from all of her screaming. Her lungs felt heavy and weak and she could barely summon the strength to raise her hand to beat piteously against the wooden ceiling of her prison. "Don't leave me here. I don't want to die."

Time no longer had any meaning. Lindsay had no idea how long it had been since she'd heard the gunshots. Verging as she was on the edge of unconsciousness, she wasn't even sure she'd heard them at all anymore or if they'd been yet another cruel dream.

The darkness was so disorientating… was she even awake? Were her eyes even open? Only by touching her eyelids with the tips of her fingers could she really be sure. It had been so quiet up above her for ages now. Her low spirits sunk lower still. Even if the team had managed to locate Delorsio, how would they ever find her?

Voices. She could hear several voices now. Although muffled through the layers of earth between her resting place and the surface, they sounded like they were getting closer. Lindsay's hope soared and she delved into the last of her meager stores of energy.

"Help me!" she cried out. "Please! Please! I'm here!"

Her lungs burning, she dissolved into tears of relief. They were so close – she could hear their footsteps now and her ears could pick out distinct voices – Mac, Stella, Flack.

And Danny.

"Over here!" she heard him call out, followed by the sounds of scraping from directly above her.

"Danny…" she exhaled, raising one shaking hand and placing it against the lid of her coffin. "Danny…"

The sounds changed. Now there was the metallic clink of something against the dirt above. A shovel maybe? They were coming. She was safe.

Feeling dizzy and exhausted from the thick and suffocating air in the tiny chamber, Lindsay closed her eyes to wait. The voices faded as she slipped into unconsciousness.

* * *

_Clunk._

"What the…?" Flack muttered.

_Clunk. Clunk._

"Mac! I think we got something!" Flack called out as his shovel hit against something hard buried beneath the ground. He had discarded his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, covered from head to toe in dirt and muck. He peered at Mac over the lip of the hole he'd been digging. "Feels solid."

"Alright," Mac said, rising to his feet. He and Stella had taken it upon themselves to keep Danny out of Flack's way, anxious as he was to get into that hole and start digging himself. He glanced worriedly at the young man sitting beside the pile of dirt Flack had flung out of the hole. He didn't look well – pale and rather sickly, if Mac was honest. But he put it down to the stress and anxiety of the situation. "Danny, I'm going to go down in there and see what we've got. Stay here with Stella. And maybe let Hawkes have a look at you, alright?"

Danny shook his head. "I'm fine," he replied, his eyes never leaving the gaping hole in the ground. "If she's in there, she'll need Hawkes more than I do."

Mac placed his hand on Danny's shoulder, amazed at his steadfast belief in Lindsay's resilience. Even if she had been alive when Delorsio had buried her, they had no idea how long she'd been interred. He wished he could share Danny's blind optimism.

"Shit, Mac," Hawkes whispered gravely in Mac's ear after glancing down into the hole. Flack had swept aside the last layer of dirt with his hands, uncovering the wooden structure beneath. "It's a fucking coffin."

"Flack, get out of there. I'm coming in," Mac instructed. "Sheldon, hand me that crow bar." He thought back to the box of tattered clothes that Danny had received only a few hours ago and he realized that it was very likely that Delorsio hadn't bothered to re-clothe his victim before burying her. "Everyone keep back – we don't know what state she's going to be in and I don't want her to be crowded. Let's give her a little privacy."

Dropping carefully into the hole that Flack had recently vacated, Mac braced himself with his feet on either side of the long wooden box. He edged the tip of the crowbar under the lip of the lid and took a deep breath, steadying himself for what he might find inside. He pictured pretty Joanie Vanzella with her throat slit; her face slowly transfiguring into that of his young detective from Montana. Blinking back the tears of anger and injustice that sprung to his eyes, Mac jerked the crowbar and the sound of wood creaking in protest against his actions rent the silence that had descended upon the scene above as everyone waited for the box's contents to be revealed.

Two more cranks of the crowbar had the lid loosened enough that Mac could slide his fingers into the gap between the lid and the body of the box. With an almighty heave, he pulled as hard as he could, stumbling backward when the lid suddenly sprang free. He hit the side of the hole with an oomph, the lid of the box still in his hands. His fingers ached and he knew he'd caught a few splinters, but he figured it was a small price to pay.

"Oh, Jesus… oh, fuck… Lindsay!"

The emotion Mac could hear in Danny's voice was heart wrenching. He glanced up to see Danny peering over the edge of the hole, tears streaming from his eyes. Handing the lid off to Flack, Mac flicked his gaze to the young woman lying prone in the box. Aside from the bruises afflicting her tiny body and her bloodied and splintered hands, she looked as though she could be sleeping. Feeling extremely uncomfortable looking upon a friend and coworker in her state of undress, Mac quickly removed his jacket and placed it over her body before he knelt down to feel for a pulse.

"Danny, come on, sweetie… come away," Stella gently soothed, but Danny shrugged free of her hands.

"Mac!" he cried, the pain in his voice piercing Mac's heart like a dagger. "Please… is she… she's not… she's okay, right?"

"Come on, Lindsay," Mac muttered to himself as his fingers pressed against her throat, searching for the telltales signs of a heartbeat. Her skin was still relatively warm – probably from the insulation of the earth that had encapsulated her – which made Mac hopeful. And then he felt it; a faint and gentle pressure against his fingers. He waited a beat, wanting to be sure. Then he felt it again. "Hawkes!" Mac shouted. "Hawkes, I need you down here! She's alive!"

* * *

**And 11,000 words later... Lindsay's alive! Woot, woot! But everything isn't sunshine and roses for Danny…**

**Alright, so I wouldn't be surprised if by the time you reached the end of this chapter your eyes had permanently crossed from staring at your screens for so long. Even though reading this may have taken quite a lot of your time, I can only hope that you felt it was time well spent. **

***chuckles nervously***

**Thanks again for joining me on this adventure. As always, I invite you to leave a review if you'd care to share your thoughts; good, bad, ugly… all feedback is helpful and very much appreciated! On that note, I completely forgot to mention in the last update that this story is now officially one year old! Jeez. I never intended for it to take this long and you all have my sincerest apologies for dragging my feet. I know I've said it like a billion times, but your patience with this story means the world to me. **

**Until next time!**

**rhymes**


	23. Motionless

**A/N: Heeeeeeeeeeeeere's rhymes!**

**No, do not adjust your computer screens. Your eyes are not playing tricks on you. I am actually updating this story, if you can believe it!**

**I am so sorry for taking forever and a day to update. Life's been crazy, I've been sick, my computer's been acting like an asshole… excuses, excuses, excuses. Thank you all for sticking with this story, and for all the little nudges you sent my way reminding me that I needed to get my butt in gear and update this damn story already!**

**Without further ado, here is the next installment of Something Wicked This Way Comes. I hope you enjoy it! And yes, there is more to come so keep your eyes peeled. :)**

* * *

She hadn't moved or made the slightest sound. Not when Hawkes had dropped into the hole in the earth with Mac to examine her, prying open her eyelids to shine a light into her eyes. Not when the former ME covered her mouth with a plastic mask and turned the nozzle on the portable oxygen tank to help fill her depleted lungs with the life-giving gas. Not when the EMTs had struggled to haul her fragile body out of the hole on a spinal board. Not when he'd pressed a kiss to her forehead and run his hand over her tangled hair before the paramedics lifted her onto the waiting stretcher and began running as fast as the uneven ground would allow toward the ambulance.

"Come on, Lindsay," Danny murmured, his face inches from hers. "Wake up, baby. Let me see those beautiful brown eyes."

Nothing. No movement. Not even a flicker of her lashes. Letting out a disheartened sigh, Danny rested his forehead on the lumpy mattress of the stretcher, closing his eyes against yet another dizzy spell as the ambulance lurched around a particularly sharp corner. He felt cold and numb and knew that he'd probably lost more blood from the seeping wound under his arm than was safe, but he hadn't mentioned it to the paramedics. He wanted their full attention on Lindsay. As far as he was concerned, the ache in his side was far outweighed by the burning pain in his heart for everything she'd been through. And although Hawkes had declared that physically, he thought she would make a full recovery, Danny knew that there was no telling what lasting psychological damage Delorsio had inflicted on her. He wanted her to wake up so that he could talk to her, make sure she was really okay, and so that he could apologize. He knew that no one blamed him – not really – but he couldn't get past the nagging guilt that sat heavily on his shoulders.

"Sir?"

Danny raised his head and looked up at the young EMT sitting on the bench beside him.

"What?"

"Are you alright?"

"Am I… Yeah. I'm fine," Danny replied, forcing his lips to curl into what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "I'll be better once she's awake."

The young man pursed his lips disapprovingly. "You look awfully pale. Maybe I'd better take a quick look at you…"

"No, I said I'm fine!" Danny shot back, grimacing in pain when he recoiled from the man's outstretched hand. "I just… I was in a car accident the other day and maybe tonight was too much for me. But I'm fine. Really. Please, just… just worry about Lindsay."

The young man regarded him thoughtfully for a moment before shaking his head. "I'm going to have someone check you out when we get to the hospital whether you like it or not," he said matter-of-factly, in a tone that implied it would be useless for Danny to argue.

"We're almost there," the paramedic informed him. "Once we get to the hospital, we'll be taking Miss Monroe here straight into the Trauma Room. I'll have someone come to have a look at you in the ER."

Too tired to argue, Danny merely nodded his head before turning his attention back to Lindsay. He gently raked his fingers through her tangled curls while whispering softly to her, ever hopeful that she would hear his voice and offer some sign of recognition. But even as the ambulance skidded to a stop outside the hospital doors, Lindsay remained inert and motionless. The paramedics quickly whisked her away through the doors, Danny following slowly behind.

He stepped through the sliding doors, which hissed softly as they closed behind him. He blinked a few times at the startling brightness of the Emergency ward, hesitantly watching the hustle and bustle of nurses and doctors scuttling from patient to patient as they tended to the injured and sick. A voice at his side made him jump.

"Hey there, honey. Are you Danny Messer?"

He turned to see a short, plump woman with a mane of wild black curls smiling up at him. She wore pastel pink scrubs and her nametag revealed her name to be Antoinette. He nodded his head, swaying slightly at the wave of nausea that welled up inside of him at the movement.

"Whoa there! You alright?"

"I just… I think I need to sit down," Danny mumbled as he clumsily made his way over to the bank of hard, uncomfortable chairs that lined the hall of the visitor's area.

"One of the boys from the ambulance told me to come find you," Antoinette said, her forehead creasing into a concerned frown as she reached for his wrist to take his pulse. "Said you were a little worse for wear and that he was worried about you."

"I'm fine," Danny protested half-heartedly.

The small woman shook her head vehemently. "You are most definitely not fine," she insisted as she placed the back of her hand against his forehead. "You're practically burning with a fever and your pulse is low and weak."

"No, no. I'm fine. I just… Lindsay. I have to be there. She needs me," Danny replied, wrenching his arm from her surprisingly firm grasp and attempting to get to his feet. He placed his hands on the arm of his chair and pushed himself up, teetering unsteadily before the floor suddenly began to speed toward his face. He hit the ground with a resounding thud. He could feel hands gently turning him onto his back and heard the sound of someone unzipping his sweater. The last thing he heard before he closed his eyes was a gasp and the friendly woman's voice as she called out for help.

"I need a doctor over here! This man has been shot!"

* * *

Flack watched the ambulance containing his two friends rumble out of the gates surrounding the Valhalla building site. He was torn; he knew that Mac, Stella, Hawkes and Adam would be stuck at the site for hours, processing and preserving the evidence that would convict Delorsio of the crimes not only against Danny and Lindsay, but Tommy and Joanie Vanzella and Sal Trombino. He wanted to help, but felt that he would only be in the way. The last thing they needed was another set of footprints contaminating the scene.

The EMTs that had taken Delorsio away had asked if he wanted to ride with them, but Flack had declined when he'd seen Mac and Danny wandering out into the barren wilderness behind the building, hoping that he'd be able to offer some assistance in the search for Lindsay. But that was only part of the reason he hadn't wanted to go with Delorsio. The truth was that he wasn't sure he would have been able to hold back from beating the living shit out of that pathetic excuse for a human being. Instead he ordered two of his officers to keep an eye on Delorsio, with strict instructions not to loosen his restraints or let him out of their sight for even a fraction of a second. Even injured as he was, Delorsio was wily and sly and Flack didn't want to run the risk of letting him get away again.

He sighed and ran a dirt-encrusted hand over his face. Although Danny hadn't yet said anything, Flack knew that he had heard every word Delorsio had said. How could he not have? He'd been standing just around the corner, well within earshot. He would have heard Delorsio bragging about his conquest of Lindsay and his jeering taunts about Danny's childhood mentor. Flack himself could barely believe it was true, and it was only after he'd quietly pulled Mac aside that the head of the crime lab revealed all that he knew of Vanzella's involvement in the original rape and murder cases. Flack could only imagine how hard it must have been for his friend to have kept himself hidden and he felt a twinge of pride at Danny's impressive display of self-restraint. The Danny Messer of only a year ago wouldn't have remained so calm and collected. But he could only be expected to remain calm and collected for so long and Flack knew that he would probably make a nuisance of himself if he didn't have someone to keep him in line while he waited for Lindsay.

So, after checking in one last time with Mac and Stella – who assured him that they had the scene under control - Flack grudgingly made his way back to his car. He peeled off his Kevlar vest and tossed it into the backseat before getting behind the wheel. He turned the key in the ignition and pulled on his seatbelt before he eased his car out into the light late night traffic in the quiet residential neighbourhood.

While he drove his thoughts returned to the events of the night. He drove slightly above the speed limit, but not fast enough to warrant the use of his lights and siren. Within fifteen minutes he was pulling into the parking lot of the hospital. He got out and crossed the lot, walking through the sliding doors leading to the ER. He walked through the reception area and into the visitor's waiting area. It was crowded and noisy, filled with people in various states of distress. Some were nursing wounds or illnesses while others offered comfort to suffering friends and loved ones. Flack scanned the busy room for the face of his friend, his brow furrowing when Danny was nowhere to be found.

"Excuse me," Flack said, approaching the harried looking woman installed at the nurse's station. "I'm hoping you can help me."

"Fill this out," she said, handing him a clipboard without even bothering to look up at him. "Put in as much detail as you can, then take a number. We'll get to you as soon as possible."

"No, I don't think you understand," Flack began, but was cut off when the woman let out a long-suffering sigh.

"No sir. _You_ don't understand," she snapped. "Whatever it is that is wrong with you, you'll have to wait just like everyone else."

It was Flack's turn to sigh. He pulled his badge from his belt and tapped it against the desk. The woman finally looked up at him, her eyes widening with surprise when she noticed his badge. "Let's get something straight," Flack said, his tone serious, "I am not here to check in. I'm looking for two people. They came in an ambulance probably about ten to fifteen minutes ago. A woman and a man. The woman was badly injured and the man was riding with her. I need to know where he is. _Now_."

"Oh… um…" the woman appeared flustered, shuffling through the stacks of papers that littered her desk. "We've had a few ambulances come in over the past few minutes. One patient was accompanied by two armed police officers and the other must have been the man and the woman you're talking about. The woman – Lindsay Monroe – is in Trauma One right now. I can get her doctor to come talk to you when he's free."

"Good. I'd appreciate that," Flack said. "And the man? Where is he? I didn't see him in the visitor's area."

The woman sifted through another stack of papers. "Well," she began. "From what I remember, the man who came in with Miss Monroe was badly injured…"

"Yeah, I know that," Flack interrupted. "He was only discharged this morning after being in a car accident last night."

"I don't know anything about that," the woman replied. "What I do know is that the man who came in with Miss Monroe had been shot. The doctors have him in Trauma Two right now trying to stop the bleeding."

Flack shook his head. That couldn't be right. "No. That's not possible. You must have him confused with someone else," he insisted. "Can you check again?"

"I'm sorry, sir," the woman replied. "See for yourself. Daniel Messer; his admittance papers are right here."

She handed Flack another clipboard, this one already partially filled out; gunshot to the upper left torso, severe blood-loss, unconscious, possible internal bleeding… the list went on and on.

"Sorry, did you say you were looking for a Danny Messer?"

Flack turned at the voice from behind him. He stared down at the familiar face of the nurse who had attended to Lindsay only the night before. A glance at her nametag reminded her that she was called Antoinette. He nodded his head. "Yeah. I am."

Antoinette gave instructions to the nurse behind the counter to arrange for Lindsay's doctor to brief Flack before she pulled him aside, sitting him down in one of the unpleasantly hard chairs in the waiting area.

"I recognize you from the other night," she said. "You were here with Lindsay." She regarded Flack for a moment before she let out a sigh. "Your friend Danny… one of the paramedics called ahead and said he wasn't looking too good on the ride over but was refusing help from them. So when they arrived, I found him about ready to pass out here in the waiting room. I recognized his name, you see. Lindsay had been talking about him when she was here last time. She was so worried about him and I almost had to force her into letting me look at her arm. And tonight, Danny… poor thing; he was beside himself over her. I don't know the details of what happened to her – I don't know if I even want to – but he was in such a panic."

She briefly outlined the details of her meeting with Danny. When she told him how he had collapsed and she'd discovered the injury he'd attempted to conceal, Flack closed his eyes and let out a careworn sigh.

"God dammit, Danny," he muttered. "We tried to get him to let the paramedics check him out back at the scene," he explained, beseeching the kindly nurse to understand. "I know he just got out of the hospital and he probably shouldn't have been out doing what we were doing tonight, but he's just so stubborn! I mean, we have a friend who's a doctor, but Danny wanted everyone to concentrate on Lindsay. He didn't want anyone to fuss over him. If we'd known… but he never said anything! Jesus!" Flack pounded his fist against the arm of his chair. He raised his head to see Antoinette staring back at him with sympathetic eyes. "Is he going to be alright?"

"He's lost a lot of blood and he's got a bit of a fever; probably from doing too much too soon after his last visit here," she explained, giving Flack a small, comforting smile and patting his arm. "The doctors are working on him right now. He'll need some antibiotics and a bit of patch-work, but luckily the bullet missed any major organs."

"Thank God," Flack said, heaving a relieved sigh. "When can I see him?"

Antoinette smiled. "I'll check on his progress for you," she said. "It will probably be a while, though. So make yourself comfortable." She smiled wryly, glancing down at the hard, wooden chairs. "Well, as comfortable as you can."

"Thank you," Flack replied as Antoinette got to her feet and disappeared around the corner in the direction of the trauma rooms. He reached into his pocket for his cell, quickly typing in a recap of the situation and sending it to both Mac and Stella, knowing that they would both want to be kept in the loop regarding their two injured friends.

For nearly an hour, Flack bided his time, alternating between flicking absently through the stack of outdated magazines on the table beside him and agitatedly pacing the halls while he waited.

"Detective Flack?"

He turned to see Antoinette smiling up at him with another familiar face at her side.

"It's good to see you again, Detective," Dr. Halpern said, extending her hand for him to shake. "I wish it were under better circumstances."

"You and me both," Flack replied. "So, what's the news? How are they?"

"Well," Dr. Halpern began, gesturing for Flack to take a seat before she lowered herself into a chair beside him, "I can't speak officially for Detective Monroe as she's not my case. However, my colleagues tell me that although she remains unconscious, the concentration of carbon monoxide in her bloodstream is not as high as we initially feared and aside from some abrasions to her hands and a slight case of hypothermia, she's doing well."

Flack let out a sigh of relief. "What about… I mean, has the forensic nurse been in to see her yet?" he asked.

"That I don't know," Dr. Halpern replied. "I'm sorry. I'll have her doctor come out and have a word with you as soon as possible. He'll be able to fill you in far better than I."

"Thank you," Flack said. "And Danny?" he asked anxiously.

"Detective Messer still hasn't regained consciousness," Dr. Halpern explained. "We removed the bullet from just below his left armpit and he's being prepped right now for surgery to repair the damage." Seeing the worried look on Flack's face, she placed a comforting hand on his arm. "Don't worry, detective. It's only minor surgery and I don't expect any complications. My biggest worry for him right now is the fact that he's lost a fair amount of blood. We've got him hooked up to an IV giving units of blood in the hope of replenishing what he's lost. And after the surgery, he'll be on a heavy dose of antibiotics to fend off any possible infection."

"Thank you, Doctor," Flack said, letting out the breath he hadn't even been aware he'd been holding. He gave Dr. Halpern a small half-smile. "I'd better let you get back to your patient, I guess."

Dr. Halpern patted his arm. "He's in good hands, detective," she said, getting to her feet. "He'll be back to his old self before you know it."

Flack nodded his head, watching as Dr. Halpern walked away down the hall, disappearing behind the wide swinging doors leading to the OR.

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed getting back into this story! Thanks for staying with me, and if you'd like to leave a quick review, you know you're more than welcome to do so!**

**Cheers,**

***rhymes***


	24. In the Light

**A/N: What up, homeys?**

**Yeah, so I should probably start off this Author's Note with an apology for my lengthy absence from the world of DL. As I said in my A/N for the latest chapter of HSD, I just found myself feeling uninspired over the past few months. However, with some encouragement from a few of you lovelies out there who continued to poke and prod me out from my hidey hole, here I am! **

**I am so beyond excited at the prospect of a new season and I'm once again feeling the urge to write and to continue on with the stories I began oh so long ago.**

**Thanks to all who have reviewed, favourited, and hopefully enjoyed this story so far. I have heard your cries for more and I hope that you will enjoy this next chapter in this saga.**

* * *

_Still dark_. It seemed that she was doomed to spend the rest of her short life encased in eternal darkness. Although this time there was something different about the darkness. Less stifling. Less claustrophobic. And there were voices – distant, indistinct, unfamiliar voices. Lindsay moaned as she shifted slightly and her body fervently protested her movements. She ached from head to toe, her mouth was cottony and dry and her hands… God, her hands stung something awful. She gently tried to flex her fingers, but found she couldn't do it, not individually at least. Her fingers seemed to be stuck together. This caused a sense of panic to rise up inside of her. Now what had Delorsio done to her? Where was she? Why were her hands bound? And who the hell were all these people who were talking in hushed tones nearby?

The rustle of fabric from beside her caused Lindsay's heart to beat frantically in her chest, her anxiety rising when the sound came closer. Someone whispered her name and she felt the faint pressure of a gentle hand on her forehead. The soothing words slowly began to calm her fluttering nerves, as did the fact that she recognized that voice.

"Shh… settle down, Monroe. It's alright. You're alright. You're safe."

"Don?" Jesus, was that her voice? She sounded raspy and ragged and faint.

"Yeah, Linds. It's me," Flack's voice replied softly, continuing to stroke her hair reassuringly. "How you doin'? You about ready to open those eyes of yours yet?"

Cautiously, Lindsay cracked open her eyes, squeezing them shut quickly when the bright overhead fluorescent lights pierced her retinas and caused a searing pain to radiate through her already pounding head. She groaned and Flack uttered a curse under his breath.

"Shit. Sorry, Linds," he muttered. "I'll just get 'em to turn down the lights for you."

She heard the scuff of a chair and Flack's footsteps as he crossed the room. His voice joined in the chorus of hushed voices out in the hallway. Then he was back. "Okay, Monroe. Take two."

Once again, Lindsay slowly opened her eyes just a sliver. The room was dimmer now, illuminated only by the small single-bulb lamp by the side of the bed. She blinked a few times, letting her eyes adjust until Flack's familiar face came into focus and he smiled down at her.

"Hey, kiddo. You had us pretty worried there for a while," he said.

Lindsay returned his smile, then let her eyes take in the small, sterile hospital room. The polished linoleum floor and the tightly tucked corners of the unoccupied second bed in the room. Before she could stop herself, her bottom lip began to tremble and her eyes filled with tears. She let out a sob, quickly followed by another, then another. Her ravaged body trembling as she fully began to understand and accept that she was free. She was safe.

Seeing Lindsay begin to unravel, Flack quickly perched on the edge of her bed and gathered her in his arms, gently holding her until she finally cried herself out. She took a few calming – albeit shaky – breaths before she pulled back and fixed Flack with wide, confused brown eyes.

"What happened?" she whispered.

Flack gnawed on his lip, wondering how – yet again – he had wound up with the unenviable task of being the bearer of all news; good and bad. He carefully helped Lindsay to settle back down against her mountain of pillows before retaking his seat beside her bed.

"What do you remember?" he asked.

Lindsay sighed heavily, her expression one of deep concentration. She closed her eyes momentarily, but opened them again almost immediately, uncomfortable with the darkness. It was silly, she knew. She was sitting here, safe and sound in a hospital bed with one of her closest and most trusted friends by her side. But she couldn't seem to shake the feeling that the darkness that had encapsulated her for so long was lurking somewhere, just out of sight, waiting for a chance to enfold her in its terrifying embrace yet again.

"Can we turn the lights up a bit?" she asked. Flack's grey-blue eyes were full of understanding and sympathy as he nodded his head and got to his feet. Moments later the lights in the room brightened just a bit, neither as blinding nor as dim as they had been previously/

"Better?" he asked from the doorway.

"Better," Lindsay agreed.

Flack sat down beside her, reaching into his pocket for the small notebook he always carried. He flipped through it, searching for an empty page. "You ready?" he asked.

"What happened to Delorsio?" Lindsay asked, ignoring Flack's question.

Flack sighed. "Lindsay…"

"I need to know," she rasped stubbornly. "Is he dead?"

Her voice was flat, startling Flack with its lack of emotion. Her eyes, while alert, were filled with something other than fear. Burning in Lindsay Monroe's eyes was loathing, pure and simple.

Flack flipped his notebook shut and set it on the small table at Lindsay's bedside. "No," he said, watching Lindsay closely. "He's not."

"Is he in jail?"

Flack shook his head. "He's not."

The loathing in her eyes flickered momentarily. "He got away?" she asked in a small voice.

"He did not," Flack said. "He's here in the hospital in a secure room, handcuffed to his bed with a pair of armed guards keeping an eye on him."

"That's not good enough," Lindsay spat. "After all he did to me… to Danny… if he's hurt bad enough to need hospitalization, then you should have just let him die."

Knowing that it was the pain talking – the raw pain that was still so fresh after her ordeal – and not the sweet, spunky detective that they had all come to know and love, Flack remained silent while Lindsay continued to spew verbal vitriol about the man who had abducted her, tormented her, and nearly killed her lover – twice.

"You done?" Flack asked quietly when Lindsay had finished. Her eyes flashing with angry tears, Lindsay turned her head, refusing to meet Flack's gaze. "Look, Monroe. I know you're hurting. I know you're scared and you're angry. But you don't really mean that. I know you; you're a good person – one of the best – and you know that we couldn't just let him die. He will get what's coming to him. He'll wind up back in jail – the very last place that he wants to go – and this time it will be for life. What he's done to you, to Tommy and Joanie, Sal Trombino and to Danny… it's unforgiveable. Believe me when I tell you that death would have been too good for him."

He could see Lindsay's expression soften, her lip starting to tremble. She turned to him, her brown eyes filled no longer with anger and hatred but with sorrow.

"Where's Danny?" she asked. "Why isn't he here?"

"Oh, Linds," Flack sighed. "He wanted to be."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Lindsay asked tearfully. "If he wanted to be here, he would be!"

Flack knew he needed to tread carefully here. Lindsay was as yet completely unaware of Danny's new injuries, suffered during their siege on Delorsio's lair. He didn't want to worry her needlessly – last he heard, Danny was doing fine. Groggy, in pain, but he had woken a few hours earlier and had been undergoing tests and treatments for his bullet wound and the previously incurred wounds which had only been exacerbated by the events of the night. Hitting his head when he collapsed in the ER had done no favours for the concussion he had suffered in the car wreck and the knife wound in his side was apparently showing signs of infection. Add to that the substantial blood loss he had suffered from not allowing the medics to attend to his wound when they had first noticed that something was wrong and he was in pretty rough shape. But maybe, just maybe…

"Be right back," Flack said, suddenly getting to his feet and hurrying down the hall to the nurses' station. He smiled when he saw Antoinette standing behind the desk, scribbling quick notes onto a clipboard. She turned and beamed at him, her grin widening when he explained his idea to her. She nodded her head thoughtfully.

"Yeah, I think we can manage that," she said. "Let me just check with the doctor."

"Thanks," Flack said. He turned and headed back to Lindsay's room, stopping in the doorway. She glared at him, her brown eyes narrowed. "What?"

"What is your problem?" she berated him. "You just take off on me; don't tell me where you're going or what's going on…"

"Cool your jets, Monroe," he said, holding his hands out in a gesture of supplication as he crossed the room to her bed. He snatched his notepad from the table and stuffed it back in his pocket. "I was just checking on something."

"Well I hope it was important," Lindsay replied mulishly.

Hearing the crepe-soled footfalls approaching from out in the hallway, Flack leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of Lindsay's head. "Feel like going for a ride?"

* * *

Flack had discretely left the room while Antoinette and another nurse helped Lindsay from her bed and bundled her into a waiting wheelchair. She winced at the spasms of pain caused by even the slightest movement. Antoinette offered her a small smile and gently patted her shoulder.

"We'll be sure to get something for the pain, okay Sweetie?"

A warm blanket was tucked tightly around Lindsay's legs and the IV bags carrying medication and much needed liquid to her dehydrated body were attached to hooks attached to the back of her chair.

"Ready?" Antoinette asked, moving to stand behind Lindsay and grabbing the handles, wheeling Lindsay out into the hall.

"Where are we going?" Lindsay asked.

"You'll see," was Antoinette's vague reply. Flack kept pace, walking at Lindsay's side. He smiled down at her and flashed her a wink.

They moved slowly down the darkened hall. From within various rooms, Lindsay could hear the soft beeps and whirs of machines providing much needed care to patients while they slept. At the end of the hall Lindsay could see light shining through a door that was partially ajar. As they neared, she could hear a the vaguely familiar voice of Dr. Halpern.

"Please, Detective. You're not well."

"Bullshit."

"Daniel! Watch your language!"

"I'm sorry Ma, but I can't just sit here!" Lindsay felt her chest flutter with anticipation as Danny's voice carried down the quiet hospital corridor. "I need to see her!"

"She's asleep, _caro mio_," Maria Messer's voice said soothingly. "You can see her as soon as she wakes up."

"I want to be there for her _when_ she wakes up," Danny implored sullenly. "I don't want her to think that I don't care…"

"She would never think that, Danny." Stella's soft voice was calming. "Now stop behaving like a child and get back into bed."

Flack had quickened his pace and entered Danny's room ahead of Lindsay. He stood in the doorway and grinned at his friend. His left arm was in a sling to keep him from moving too much and tearing the stitches under his arm. He stood on shaking legs beside his bed, the tubes from the IV attached to his other arm with heavy medical tape were pulled taut as he struggled for his freedom.

"Hey, Danno. Whatcha doing outta bed?"

Danny stared at him with wide eyes. "What are you doing here?" he asked. "I thought you were with… is she alright? What's wrong?"

Flack shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "Nothing's wrong," he said. "Just wondered if you were up for a little company." He cast his gaze around the room at the assembled crowd of Danny's parents, Mac and Stella, and Dr. Halpern. "But it looks like you're already full up."

"Yeah, it's a real party in here," Danny grumbled, groaning as he lowered himself back down to sit on the edge of his bed.

"Think you got room for one more?"

Danny was about to answer when Flack waved Antoinette in, pushing her patient in front of her. Whatever Danny had been about to say died on the tip of his tongue when he saw her. He took several shaky breaths while his eyes roamed over her tiny body, his blue eyes bright with moisture.

Lindsay smiled shyly back at him. She longed to run over to him and throw herself in his arms but she knew neither of them was in any shape for that. She doubted she'd be able to stand on her own and from the way Danny's legs were shaking beneath him as he rose from the bed, he was about to collapse himself.

"Lindsay?" he finally managed to gasp out. "You're… Jesus. You're awake?" He took a tentative step, his legs wobbling beneath him. Mac and Flack moved quickly to catch him before he fell and injured himself further, helping him back to once again perch on the edge of his bed. "You're awake," he said again, more to himself than to anyone else.

"Antoinette?" Lindsay said, turning and looking up at the kindly nurse. Antoinette nodded and wheeled Lindsay closer to Danny's bed, close enough that her knee brushed against his.

"Are you okay?" she asked, taking in his battered appearance.

Danny gave her a small smile, his eyes flickering over her features. "I'm fine, Montana. Never better now that you're here."

He raised his hand, slowly reaching for her. He ran a calloused finger along the swell of her cheek, down her nose. He gently traced her lips before carefully taking one of her injured hands in his. Be brought it to his lips and placed a tender kiss to each of her battered fingers.

"Maybe we should give them a few minutes," Stella whispered to Mac.

Mac nodded his agreement. He placed a hand on Danny's shoulder. "We're just going to wait outside," he said. Danny nodded but his eyes never left Lindsay's face. "Lindsay… good to see you. You let me know if you need anything, okay?"

"I will," Lindsay replied. She briefly tore her gaze from Danny's to give him a small smile. "Thank you."

As the crowd filed from the room, Danny scootched closer to Lindsay, using the hand not encased in a sling to run his fingers through her hair. "You're really here," he murmured, his eyes filling with tears. "Oh, God. I'm so sorry, Lindsay."

"Danny, no!" Lindsay rasped. "You have nothing to apologize for."

"But everything… he was after me," he whispered. "Not you. You got hurt because of me."

Lindsay gritted her teeth against the pain as she raised her aching arms, taking Danny's face in her bandaged hands. "I got hurt because Eric Delorsio is a monster," she said with as much force as she could muster. "What happened to me has everything to do with the fact that he is a sick, twisted psychopath. You had nothing to do with that."

Danny nodded his head and wiped at his eyes. "Deep down, I know that," he said. "But you know me; Mr. Guilty Conscience. I've been tearing myself apart, thinking that if only he'd never seen me come to your place, or seen us on my folk's porch…"

"Danny, I wanted to be with you," Lindsay assured him. "And as horrible as everything that has happened has been, I wouldn't trade a single moment that we spent together."

Danny leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers and sighing in contentment. "I love you, Lindsay."

"I love you too, Danny."

* * *

***Sigh* **

**It feels so good to have them back together again. And although they are both awake and (relatively) alright, we're not done yet. Next chapter will probably be heavier, getting back to the realities of recovery for both of them. Plus we've got that turd Delorsio to deal with.**

**Kinda wish I hadn't thought him up. He's kind of a douche.**

**Please feel free to send me a review if you'd like to share your thoughts on this chapter or the story as a whole. They are always more than welcome!**

***rhymes***


	25. A Necessary Evil

**A/N: Oh. My. God. What the hell?**

**I know that's probably what you're all thinking. And I can't say that I blame you. After months of letting this story sit idly on a dusty shelf, we have two updates in as many days?**

**I told you I was feeling inspired! **

**Thanks to all who have already left a review for the last chapter. I was pleased to see that there are still a few of you following this story and even more pleased to see such a positive reaction for my first chapter in a long, long while. You guys… well, you're just awesome. **

**Anywho, on to the important stuff; I warned you last chapter that although things were looking up, the drama was certainly not over. Now begins the long and painful road to recovery. **

* * *

When Lindsay had first arrived at the hospital, her doctor's first priority had been to stabilize her condition. It was only after she was satisfied with her patient's vital signs and confident that she was no longer in imminent danger that Dr. Reynolds had allowed the forensic nurse and a member of the NYPD to begin the unpleasant task of documenting her injuries and taking samples of evidence for examination.

Although she had been present at numerous examinations of this kind in the past, Stella had been more disturbed than she cared to admit at having to be present to accept and label the samples collected by the careful and steady hand of the forensic nurse. She'd cringed with each splinter of wood pulled from beneath Lindsay's torn fingernails, winced as the wounds on her arms and legs were swabbed, and her hands had trembled slightly as she sealed the jar on the minute particles that had been carefully combed from Lindsay's hair.

The nurse had stopped once the cursory examination was complete, peeling the latex gloves from her hands and turning to Stella.

"That's all we can do for now, Detective," she said, tossing her gloves into the waiting receptacle.

Stella nodded her head. She knew that in order to continue, to complete the most intimate and – in Stella's opinion, by far the most important – part of the exam, they would need Lindsay's written consent, or the consent of a medical proxy speaking on her behalf. And seeing as her parents were still en route to New York – having been called by Mac Taylor himself once Lindsay was safely ensconced in the ambulance – there was no one to give proxy. And therefore, the Sexual Assault Evidence Kit would have to wait.

And so it was with a heavy heart that Stella stood outside Lindsay's hospital room. She'd both hoped for and feared the moment that Lindsay would regain consciousness. Although she knew it was important, she simply couldn't bear the thought of making Lindsay endure what was sure to be a painful – both physically and emotionally – exam.

But she was here to do the job and she owed it to herself, Mac, the lab – and especially Danny and Lindsay – to do everything in her power to bring the monster Eric Delorsio to justice. As much as she hated to do it, she realized that it was a necessary evil.

Mac seemed to sense her unease and he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, offering her a sympathetic smile.

"I don't envy you, Stella," he said quietly. "But it needs to be done. And you know that I would do it myself if I could. But given the circumstances, I have a feeling that Lindsay would be more comfortable with you there."

"I know, Mac," Stella sighed, bending to pick up her kit. "And I want to be there for her. I just wish there was a way to do this without… without actually having to do it."

"I'll be out here if you need me," Mac said, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze before taking a step back and allowing Stella to knock softly on the door.

"Come in," Lindsay's quiet and raspy voice barely carried through the door. Stella took a deep breath and turned the knob, plastering what she hoped was a reassuring and friendly smile on her face.

"Hey, kiddo," she said, closing the door behind herself and setting her kit on the floor by her feet. "I see you've gotten yourself a new roommate."

After giving the young couple a few moments of privacy after their touching reunion, Lindsay's doctor – a grey-haired but youthful-faced woman called Dr. Reynolds – had put her foot down, insisting that her patient needed her rest, which meant getting her back into her bed. In her own room.

The pleading and protests that had erupted from both Danny and Lindsay had caused their doctors some concern; Lindsay had begun to tremble almost uncontrollably and Danny's blood pressure began to rise at the mere thought of having his beloved Montana taken from his side. A decision was made to allow them to remain in the same room. Danny's smaller, single room was deemed too small to accommodate a second occupant, so once Lindsay had been snugly tucked back in her bed, Danny had been moved to the other, previously empty bed in her room.

Apparently, that hadn't been good enough for Danny, who grinned sheepishly at Stella from where he was perched on the edge of Lindsay's bed, one of her small, bandaged hands held gently in his.

"Hey, Stell."

"How're you feeling?" Stella asked, pulling up the chair at Lindsay's side and sitting down.

Lindsay glanced at Danny, a soft smile touching the corners of her lips. "I'm okay."

"I'm glad to hear it," Stella said. She took a deep breath, trying to think of a delicate way to bring up the subject she loathed to discuss.

"You okay there, Stell?" Danny asked. Stella inwardly cursed herself for letting her misgivings show so obviously on her face.

"Actually, I'm not here for a social visit."

"You need my statement," Lindsay said in a small voice.

Stella nodded. "Yes, there's that," she began. "But…"

"But…" Danny prompted. "Come on, Stella. Spit it out."

Stella let out a heavy sigh. She reached down for her kit, flipping the catches and opening it, pulling out a small clipboard onto which was clipped a form. She saw Lindsay's eyes widen with recognition – she too had been present for far too many of these exams for her taste and knew the exact purpose of that form.

"I'm sorry, Lindsay. I know it's not something that you want to think about or deal with right now, but I need your consent."

She watched as Lindsay turned to Danny, her eyes silently begging for his support and protection; for him to tell her that she didn't have to do it. That nobody was going to make her go through with it.

Danny's hand reached up to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind Lindsay's ear, his eyes focused on her face.

"I can't make this decision for you," he said softly. "Nobody but you can do that. You know whether you need the test or not. You know better than me or Stella or the doctors what happened."

"I don't want to," Lindsay beseeched him, her voice warbling with emotion.

"I know you don't," Danny soothed. "I know. But if it will help… if he did anything to you that we need to know about…"

Lindsay shook her head, her eyes welling with tears.

"I don't know! I don't know!" she wailed, her face crumpling in anguish. "I can't… I don't remember!"

"Oh, Linds," Danny breathed, inching himself closer to her and using his unencumbered arm to gently embrace her, his face buried in her hair while she sobbed in earnest against his chest. "Oh, baby. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Don't leave me," came Lindsay's voice, muffled against the fabric of Danny's hospital gown. "Please don't go."

"Shh… shh…" he cooed. "I'm not going anywhere. I gotcha, Linds. I gotcha."

"I don't want… I… he…"

"Stella, can you give us a minute?" Danny asked while he rocked back and forth in an attempt to comfort the distraught woman in his arms. Nodding, Stella got to her feet.

"I'll be right outside."

Thoughts began to swirl chaotically in Lindsay's mind. She wasn't sure if they were memories or simply horrible imaginings. She recalled the terrifying moment when her fantasy of the first night she had spent with Danny had morphed into a nightmare in which Delorsio had invaded the most intimate area of her body. Had that actually happened? Or had it simply been the manifestation of her fears playing games with her?

Delorsio had certainly threatened her, torn her clothes from her body. But had he really violated her in that way?

She buried her face further into Danny's shoulder, gripping tightly to his shirt, heedless of the pain this caused her hands. She felt his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back, heard his voice whispering reassurances in her ear. She felt so safe. If she could just stay here, tucked tightly in his arms…

"Please, Lindsay. Talk to me," Danny pleaded quietly. "I know this isn't easy. But talk to me. I want to help you. What are you thinking?"

"I don't want it to be real," she whispered. "I don't want to know."

Danny pulled back and Lindsay let out a whimper at the loss of the protective enclosure of his arms. He placed a finger under her chin, bringing her gaze up to meet his.

"You don't mean that, Lindsay," he said. "I know this is hard. I know." He swallowed hard, trying not to let his emotions overtake him. The mere thought of her needing to subject herself to a rape kit? It made his blood boil and seething hate for the man who had put her in this position to course through his veins. But Lindsay needed him to be strong, to be rational. "If you can't remember, then this exam… it's the only way to be sure. If it shows that he didn't… that… that nothing happened, then you'll be able to move on. You won't have to live the rest of your life wondering."

Lindsay sniffled quietly, her expression one of heart-breaking vulnerability. "But what if he did, Danny? What happens then?"

"Then we'll deal with it," Danny assured her. "We'll do everything we need to do to get you through this, no matter what this test tells us."

Raising a battered hand, Lindsay touched Danny's cheek. "We?"

"We," Danny affirmed, turning his face and pressing a tender kiss to her palm.

Sucking in a shuddering breath, Lindsay curled her fingers into his hair, pulling him closer, her lips seeking his. The kiss was soft and brief, but heartfelt and full of gratitude.

"Thank you," she rasped, her forehead pressed against Danny's.

"You don't gotta thank me, Linds," he replied, his hand skimming soothingly up and down her arm.

"I know. But I want to."

Danny gave her a small smile. "Well, whatever the lady wants," he said, pressing another quick kiss to her lips.

They remained sitting quietly on the bed, foreheads touching, for several long minutes.

"Linds?"

"Mmm?"

"Stella's waiting babe. She's gonna need an answer."

Lindsay pulled back, her expression one of resignation. She cast her gaze down to her hands, now resting in her lap. She nodded her head.

"I'll let her know," Danny said. He pressed one final kiss to her forehead before heaving himself from the bed with a groan, his limbs stiff and sore and his wounds aching. He grabbed the pole on which hung his IV medication and slowly, haltingly, made his way around Lindsay's bed and to the door.

He placed his hand on the knob, gave it a turn and pulled. Hearing the door open, Stella got to her feet, as did Mac who had joined her while she waited for Lindsay's decision.

"Well?" she asked.

Danny glanced back over his shoulder at Lindsay sitting small and alone on her bed. He turned back to Stella and nodded his head. "She'll do it."

* * *

**I wrestled with ending the chapter there, but I think that for now it's a good place for a break. **

**As always, your thoughts and comments on what you've read are always welcome :)**

***rhymes***


	26. Shattered

**A/N: Hello, lovelies!**

**So, here we are with another chapter of Something Wicked. Thanks to _CTI-Jenn, webdlfan, Izzi Creo, Ditto123, Clare-Louise89, mckenzie, Craftygirl11, Thorne Lockehart, RandomTVFan30, jules4ya_ and _bookworm_ for your encouraging reviews! You're pretty awesome! **

**Just a note: there is an unregistered reader leaving multiple reviews in an attempt to urge quicker updates. While I appreciate your support, please sign up for an account and send a PM my way instead of adding another review for a chapter you've already commented on. It skews the numbers and honestly, updates will come when they come, no matter how many reviews you submit. Thanks! :) **

**Anyway, this next chapter sinks a little deeper still. We deal with some big emotions from both halves of our favourite couple and it does get a bit heavy – although I hope not too heavy. See the Author's note at the end for more after you've finished the chapter.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"Okay Lindsay. Just try and relax."

Lindsay let out a mirthless chuckle. Sure. Relax. Because that was the easiest thing in the world to do when a stranger was poking around between your legs. Especially when said stranger was a trained forensic nurse searching for evidence of… of…

She let out a shaky sigh. She didn't even want to think the word. _Rape_. Thinking about it meant acknowledging that it was a possibility. She didn't feel like she had been… violated. She didn't hurt. Well not there, anyway. Nearly every inch of her body ached from either the beatings issued by Eric Delorsio or the beating she'd inflicted upon herself while trying to kick and claw her way out of her subterranean prison. But between her legs, in her most intimate and private area, she felt nothing. No pain. What did that mean?

She held her breath as the nurse began her examination, explaining her actions as she went.

"I'm going to start by swabbing your vagina for trace and biological samples."

Lindsay nodded her head, her eyes fixed on the ceiling, willing her mind to imagine her anywhere else but here. Her fingers involuntarily tightened around Danny's hand in hers.

"You okay?" Danny's voice sounded softly in her ear. She turned her head to see him staring back at her, his blue eyes troubled. She managed a small smile, the uneasiness that had built in the pit of her stomach lessened slightly by his presence. She was so glad he was here; glad she had insisted that he stay even after the forensic nurse had tried to get him to leave.

"He's a trained forensics expert," Lindsay had argued, "And my best friend. I want him here. And if you make him leave, you and your damn test can go to hell."

The nurse had turned to Stella, the two of them sharing a look. Stella had shrugged her shoulders, clearly nonplussed by the presence of her male colleague in the room. "As long as it doesn't bother Lindsay, I don't see why he should have to go." So Danny had stayed, sitting quietly at Lindsay's bedside and holding her hand while the nurse prepped her.

He was a welcome distraction to her now, while she tried to keep her mind from lingering on what the nurse was searching for. And what she might find.

"I'm fine," she said in answer to his question. His expression told her that he was unconvinced and she raised her hand to his face, letting her thumb stroke against the bristles on his cheek. The corners of his lips twitched upward and he leaned into her touch, turning his head and pressing a gentle kiss to her palm.

She loved the feel of his beard against her skin and for a moment she was transported back to the moment several nights ago when she had first touched his face, felt his stubble against her hand. That first touch had led to kissing, to more touching. To feeling the pleasant roughness of his cheeks as they brushed against other areas of her body; her neck, her shoulder. He'd nuzzled his face between her breasts, against her stomach. And finally, he'd delved between her thighs, pressing exploratory kisses to her most sensitive areas, arousing her beyond belief.

Closing her eyes, she let the memory envelope her, her fingers still cupping his face, making the memory all the more real in her mind.

"Danny…" she whispered.

"Yeah, Montana?"

"Danny…"

"Yeah, babe?"

"Danny…"

"_Lindsay Monroe from Montana."_

Suddenly the voice wasn't Danny's anymore. It wasn't full of tenderness and desire. It was full of malice and hate. She opened her eyes. The face beside her bed was no longer that of the man who wanted to pleasure her and love her, but that of Eric Delorsio; the man who had beaten her and buried her alive, leaving her for dead.

She could feel his face in her hand and she wanted to hurt him. She wanted to hurt him as badly as he had hurt her.

"No! Don't do this! Not again!" she screamed, kicking and flailing against him as he tried to hold her down. Her fingers curled into a claw and she scratched him, feeling a sense of accomplishment when he howled in pain, clutching at his bleeding cheek.

She felt hands gripping her wrists and she tried to twist away from them, desperate to be free. She wouldn't let him put her in that box. Not again. Not now that she had tasted freedom, breathed fresh air. Not now that she'd seen Danny again.

"No! No, please! Don't… not again! Not again!"

"Lindsay! Lindsay, stop it! You're going to hurt yourself!"

_Stella? What was Stella doing here?_

"Come on, Lindsay. You're fine. You're safe," Stella's voice soothed, although there was a slight edge of panic in her tone. "No one is going to do anything you don't want them to do, okay? Please… just wake up!"

Her chest heaving and pulse racing, drenched in a cold sweat, Lindsay cracked open first one eye, then the other. The lights of the hospital room were stark and blinding. She blinked against the glare. Silhouetted against the lights, she recognized the wild curls of Stella Bonasera who was leaning over her, her hands gripping tightly to Lindsay's wrists.

"There, we go. You're okay, Lindsay. You're okay," Stella said, the tremor in her voice revealing her inner panic.

"Stella, you're hurting me," Lindsay moaned, nodding toward one of her restrained hands. Stella hesitated for a moment before she released her hold on Lindsay, straightening up and running her fingers agitatedly through her hair. Glancing around the room, Lindsay could see the forensic nurse was cowering against the wall across from the foot of Lindsay's bed, her eyes wide. "W-what happened?" she asked.

Her gaze turned to where Danny had been sitting at her bedside, his chair now vacant; Danny was nowhere to be seen.

"Stella? What happened?" she asked again, her words stronger this time. No longer a question; now a demand.

Stella and the nurse shared a worried glance. Stella opened her mouth to answer, but before she could utter a single syllable, the silence in the room was rent by an anguished cry from behind the closed door of the bathroom in the corner of the room, followed by the unmistakable sound of shattering glass.

* * *

Lindsay had insisted that he stay for the exam, despite the nurse's displeasure at having a visitor in the room during the procedure. And a male visitor at that.

Danny sat on one side of Lindsay's bed while Stella sat on the other, both of them silently offering their support and comfort to a friend in distress. Lindsay had steadfastly refused to make eye contact with either of them, choosing instead to stare blankly at the ceiling. But it was Danny that she repeatedly reached for when she became uncomfortable, especially when the nurse announced that she would be swabbing her vagina for traces of "trace and biological samples".

Danny's stomach churned when she picked up a cotton-tipped swab – not unlike the ones they used as CSIs to collect evidence from crime scenes or to swab suspect's mouth for DNA. The correlation between the two was not lost on Danny. _Biological samples_. He gritted his teeth in anger, Delorsio's taunting words running through his mind.

_She's a pretty little thing, Messer. Nice and tight._ _I told you I'd get to know her__._

A rage unlike any he had ever experienced began to build deep in Danny's chest. In his mind's eye, he could just picture Delorsio's face twisted into a grotesque, taunting smile. His hand curled involuntarily into a fist and Danny had the sudden and nearly overwhelming urge to punch something. The only thing holding him back was Lindsay's small hand gripping tightly to his. He took a few calming breaths, willing himself to stay cool and keep calm.

"You okay?" he asked when her fingers tightened around his. She blinked, seemingly drawing herself from her thoughts. She turned her head, offering him a small smile.

"I'm fine," she said, although her voice betrayed her inner turmoil. She released his hand, raising hers to his face and he smiled in spite of himself at this small gesture of affection and familiarity. Despite what was going on, he felt himself relax at her touch, and he turned his head, pressing a kiss to her bandaged palm.

Her fingers gently stroked his bristled cheek and she too seemed to relax, the tiniest trace of a smile on her lips as she leaned back into her pillows and closed her eyes.

The nurse finished her examination, gently rearranging Lindsay's covers to preserve her modesty. "Lindsay? We're all done," she said, but her words seemed to go unheeded by Lindsay, who appeared to be resting peacefully, her eyelids fluttering and the smile on her face widening slightly.

"Danny…"

His name murmured so intimately caused a blush to rise on Danny's cheeks, and he looked across the bed at Stella who was trying hard to pretend she hadn't heard.

"Yeah, Montana?" Danny whispered, gently stroking his hand over her hair in an affectionate gesture.

"Danny…"

"Yeah, babe?"

In an instant something changed in Lindsay. Her brow furrowed, her breath quickened and he felt her hand tense against his face.

"Lindsay?" he asked, his hand moving to her shoulder, giving her a gentle shake in an attempt to rouse her from whatever was troubling her. "Lindsay, what's wrong?"

"No! Don't do this! Not again!" she cried, her body thrashing against her unseen assailant. She kicked out, her foot connecting with the small metal cart containing the nurse's tools, sending it crashing to the floor with a loud clatter.

"Lindsay!" he said, his voice laced with urgency, giving her shoulder another shake. "Please, honey. Wake up!"

Suddenly there was a searing pain in his face as Lindsay's fingernails found purchase in his skin, digging into his flesh and leaving deep gouges in their wake.

"Stella! Do something!" he shouted. "Please!"

Stella stood, leaning over Lindsay's thrashing body and taking both wrists in her hands.

"Lindsay, it's Stella!" she said over the terrified woman's screams of protest. "Come on, kiddo! Wake up!"

"No! No, please! Don't… not again! Not again!"

The pain in her voice was heart breaking and Danny sat, immobile and in shock as Stella continued to talk Lindsay down from her panicked state. What must Delorsio have done to incite this kind of reaction from her? Horrific images flashed through his mind; the Polaroid Delorsio had sent of Lindsay splayed out on a filthy mattress. His words, uttered only hours earlier outside of the Valhalla building rang clear as a bell in Danny's ears.

"_Your pretty little girl moaned like whore when I took her, did you know that? The little slut spread her legs and begged me for it… and she felt so good, Messer; her tight little pussy so sweet and wet for me…"_

The room began to twist and swirl around him. His stomach lurched and heaved, bile burning in the back of his throat. He was on his feet, stumbling clumsily across the room to the open door in the corner. His IV pole caught on the end of Lindsay's bed, impeding his progress. Without a thought, he grabbed the tubes feeding medication to his body and wrenched them violently from his arm. He lurched the final distance into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him before falling to his knees, his stomach cramping painfully as he expelled its paltry contents, leaving him exhaustedly dry-heaving into the bowl.

Tears streamed down his face, both from pain and anger. He sat gasping for breath on the floor, willing the strength back into his limbs. It was all so unfair. Why had Lindsay had to pay for something that had happened over 20 years ago? None of this had anything to do with her! The injustice of it all was so overwhelming. Soon, the pain was a thing of the past and all that remained was a seething rage, an unbridled anger directed solely at the man who had plotted and planned his revenge for nearly two decades; who had taken the lives of three innocent people and shattered his own life along with Lindsay's.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand then pushed himself up on unsteady legs. Leaning heavily on the sink, he took a series of deep breaths. But they did nothing to assuage his fury. Raising his head, he saw the deep gashes in his cheek, a reminder of the terror Delorsio had inflicted on the woman he loved.

He wanted to punch something. He wanted to destroy something. Almost unconsciously, his hand clenched into a tight fist and he let out a stream of curses before crashing his fist into the mirror.

* * *

Hearing the commotion from out in the hallway, Mac pushed his way into the room. He stood in the doorway for a moment, taking in the sight before his eyes.

Stella stood, panting and agitated by Lindsay's bedside; the nurse was sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, clearly shaken, her tools spread out in an array across the floor. A lone IV pole lay discarded by the bathroom door, its tubes dangling uselessly, their patient no where in sight. And Lindsay sat, tangled in her blankets on her bed, her face flushed and a thin sheen of sweat evident on her skin.

"What happened in here?" he asked, stepping carefully over the debris on the floor. "Is everyone okay? Where's Danny?"

Stella turned to him, silently nodding toward the bathroom. Mac allowed his gaze to linger on the closed door for only a moment before he crossed to Lindsay's side. He sat down in Danny's vacated chair. She appeared not to notice him, still somewhat lost in her thoughts.

"Lindsay?" he asked softly. "Are you alright?"

"I didn't want him to do it again," she whispered, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around her legs. She began to rock slowly back and forth. "I don't want to go back. Please don't let him take me back."

"Shh…," he soothed. He reached out to touch her but stopped when she recoiled at his advance. He raised his hands in a gesture of supplication, leaning back in his chair, hoping to appear as non-threatening as possible. "It's okay, Lindsay. No one is going to make you go anywhere you don't want to go."

"_He_ made me," she said, tears brimming over to trickle down her cheeks. "He put me in there. H-he took my clothes and he… he…" She closed her eyes, but opened them again in an instant as if Delorsio was lurking in the darkness behind her eyelids. Her face crumpled and her sobs began in earnest now. "What did he do to me?"

Her beseeching cries caused an ache to form in the pit of Mac's stomach. "I don't know," he responded honestly. "I don't know. But maybe…" he turned to the nurse. "Did you get a chance to finish the SAE kit?"

The nurse swallowed, raising a shaking hand to brush her hair back from her face before nodding her head. "I had just finished when…" She broke off, gesturing in Lindsay's direction. "I'm sorry if I… I didn't mean to upset you, Lindsay."

Mac gave her an encouraging smile. "I don't think it was you that upset her," he said kindly. "Are you alright?"

"Fine, fine," the nurse replied with a nervous laugh. "Just… I've performed this procedure more times than I care to remember, and everyone reacts differently. I've just never... I… nothing like that has ever happened before."

"Stella, could you please go and get Antoinette and send her in here to take a look at Lindsay?" Mac asked, getting to his feet. "And take…" he glanced at the nurse who had bent down to begin retrieving her tools from the floor. He caught a glimpse of her nametag, "…Loretta with you to start going over the results of the SAE kit."

Stella nodded her head. "Sure," she said. She knelt down, helping Loretta collect the last of her things and loading them back onto the cart. Mac was grateful to see that she had set any evidence collected from Lindsay on a separate table, all of the tightly sealed vials and swabs undisturbed by all the commotion. The two women left the room, Stella pausing in the doorway to give Lindsay a sympathetic smile before closing the door quietly behind herself.

Mac waited by the foot of Lindsay's bed, being careful not to get too close and upset her further. He looked up at the sound of the door opening, the now familiar figure of Antoinette entering the room. In quiet tones he explained what had happened as far as he understood it, Antoinette nodding her head, her expression one of kindly understanding.

"I'll look after her," she assured him. "Don't you worry, Detective."

"Thank you," he said. He took a tentative step toward the bed. "Lindsay? Antoinette is going to get you comfortable and cleaned up," he explained. "Are you going to be alright for a few minutes? I'm just going to see how Danny is doing." He tried to keep his tone light, although the silence coming from the bathroom and the fact that Danny hadn't emerged yet, despite knowing what was going on with Lindsay, worried him more than he cared to admit.

Lindsay said not a word, but simply nodded, her chin resting on her knees and her fingers twisted tightly in her blankets.

"Danny?" Mac asked, knocking softly on the bathroom door. There was no answer. He twisted the handle; it wasn't locked. "I'm coming in."

He pushed on the door, a large lump forming in the back of his throat. Danny was sitting on the floor, his knees drawn up to his chest, his face in his hands. The knuckles of one hand sported fresh, jagged wounds and even from where he stood in the doorway, Mac could see tiny shards of something that looked like glass protruding from the cuts.

His eyes scanned the rest of the small room, looking for the source of Danny's latest injuries. The mirror; there was a clear point of impact where something had collided hard with the glass, cracks spider-webbing outward from that central point. Mac shook his head.

"Oh, Danny," he sighed, crouching down in front of the younger man. "What happened?"

Danny raised his head just enough to look forlornly at Mac, his blue eyes rife with grief, pain and guilt. He simply shook his head and buried his face once again, his shoulders beginning to shake with choking sobs. Glancing over his shoulder, Mac could see that Antoinette was well on her way to getting Lindsay comfortable and calmed, so he stood, pulling the bathroom door closed before he lowered himself to the floor, sitting beside Danny and sliding his arm around the distraught man's shoulders in a gesture of comfort and solidarity. He said not a word, letting his young friend take quiet solace in his presence and offering an ear if he wanted to talk.

Eventually, Danny's sobs diminished. He took a shaky, gasping breath, letting it out slowly before finally raising his head, his eyes fixed on some unseen point in front of him.

"She was so scared, Mac," he said quietly. "She was fine and then… and then she wasn't. And I couldn't stop it. I couldn't save her. I couldn't wake her up. She just kept screaming."

"She's been through a lot, Danny," Mac pointed out gently. "It stands to reason that she is going to react to certain stimuli, and some of those reactions are going to be pretty strong."

A single tear trickled from his eye. Then another. And another. "I couldn't stop it, Mac. I tried. But she just… she was locked in this nightmare and nothing I said or did…" He turned to Mac, giving the head of the crime lab a good look at the other side of his face for the first time. Mac's eyes widened at the bloodied scratches on his face. "She thought I was him. She thought I was hurting her."

"She doesn't think that, Danny," Mac assured. "She knows you would never hurt her. But like you said, she was stuck in a nightmare and she lashed out at the closest person. It could have been anyone, Danny. You just happened to be there."

Danny shook his head. "She was saying my name," he lamented. "And not… not like I'd say your name or you'd say mine." He lowered his gaze to the floor and Mac could see his jaw working as he struggled to control his emotions. "She said my name like she did when, um… when we…"

Despite the current situation, Mac allowed a small smile to cross his face at Danny's inference. But he replaced it quickly, allowing his features to once again turn stoic and reserved. "She said your name like a lover," he suggested. Danny nodded his head sadly.

"Why couldn't he just hurt me?" Danny asked, his anxiety rising. "Why did he have to do this to her? She never did anything to him! She just… she loved me and let me love her. She shouldn't have to pay for that. Not like this."

"I know it's not fair, Danny. But life rarely is, especially not where people like Eric Delorsio are concerned."

Danny sat and pondered Mac's words in silent misery for a moment. "Where is he?" he asked. "What's going to happen to him?"

"Well, he's in a secure room right now. Last I heard from his doctor, he's been unconscious since he was brought in."

Danny scoffed derisively. "So that bastard gets to rest peacefully while Lindsay is still suffering from what he did?"

"He'll pay for what he did, Danny," Mac said, his voice ringing with confidence. "He's going to go to prison for a long, _long_ time for what he's done. He's killed three innocent people, nevermind what you and Lindsay have been through. So while he might be resting peacefully now, you can bet your ass that it will be short-lived."

Danny nodded, although it was clear from his expression that he thought that prison was not nearly enough of a punishment for Eric Delorsio. However, before he got a chance to voice his opinion, their conversation was interrupted by a soft knock at the door.

"Sorry to bother you," Antoinette said, poking her head into the room. She grimaced upon seeing Danny's blood-stained appearance, but quickly recovered. "But she's asking for you."

"I'll be right there," Mac said, moving as if to get to his feet.

"No, not you," Antoinette corrected. She offered Danny a small smile. "She's asking for you, Detective Messer."

Danny glanced at Mac, then back to Antoinette. "S-she wants to see me?" he asked, almost incredulous.

"Told you," Mac chided gently. He stood, offering his hand to help Danny to his feet. The young detective accepted his hand gratefully, letting out a grunt of pain as Mac helped him to stand. He cast his eyes appraisingly up and down Danny, his mouth turned down in a frown. "Um… why don't I check on Lindsay. Antoinette," he turned to the nurse who still lingered in the doorway, "Could you please help Detective Messer get cleaned up? Those cuts are going to need some attention."

Antoinette smiled and nodded. "Of course." She took a step back, allowing Mac to pass by her, then she came into the room with Danny, closing the door behind her. She reached up to the shelf above the toilet, grabbing a fresh hospital gown and setting it on the counter. "Why don't we start by getting you into something clean. Then I'll take a look at your face and hand, okay honey?"

Offering a grateful smile, Danny nodded. "That'd be great. Thanks."

Once he was changed, Antoinette seated him on the toilet after flipping the lid down. She excused herself, but was back momentarily with a small rolling trolley with drawers filled with gauze, bandages and everything else she'd need. Danny winced as she began to methodically pick the shards of glass from his hand before cleaning the wound and dressing it. Then she cast a professional eye on the cuts to his face.

"They don't look too bad," she mused. "Just superficial scratches. We'll have that pretty face back to normal in no time." She shot him a playful wink. "Quicker than you can blink. You'll never even know they were there."

Danny didn't reply, continuing to stare morosely at his bandaged hand while Antoinette worked. "She thinks the world of you, you know that, right?" she asked.

"She what?" Danny asked, raising his gaze to meet hers, dark brown eyes filled with caring and understanding.

"Since the first time I met her when you came in after that car crash… well, let's just say that you're her favourite topic. And that hasn't changed. Even after everything that she's been through, she's out there telling me how amazing you are. How good you treat her. How much you care about her." She smiled, affixing small butterfly tabs to the edges of the cuts. "Whatever happened in there… whatever she remembers or doesn't remember… she's got it bad for you, Detective. And I know it's not my place, but as her nurse, it's my job to make sure my patient gets the best care possible. And what she needs right now – more than medicine or anything I can do for her – is you."

Danny's eyes swam with emotion and he blinked hard, averting his eyes to the cracked mirror. "But what if she reacts badly again?"

"Then you just keep sitting by her side and telling her how much you love her," Antoinette suggested. "You'd be surprised how much good those three little words – _I love you_ - can do for the soul. And right now, it's her soul that needs a little TLC. And you're the only one who can give that to her. There," she said with finality, removing her gloves and tossing them into the trash. "You're all done. Good as new."

Danny looked up at her, and for the first time, she saw the makings of a smile on his face. "Thank you," he said softly.

"Just looking out for my patient. That's all," she replied. Reaching down, she took him gently by the elbow and helped him to his feet. "You okay to walk?"

Danny nodded his head. "Yeah. Thanks."

"You ready?" she asked, her hand poised on the doorknob. Sucking in a deep breath, Danny nodded his head.

"Ready."

She smiled and opened the door, watching as Danny cautiously placed one foot in front of the other, shuffling slowly past her and into the room.

* * *

**So… I debated and debated about this one. The part where Lindsay sort of slips off into a memory/fantasy was something I knew I wanted in this chapter, but I was very unsure of having it take place when she was being examined. So I was careful to have the exam finished before moving on to that aspect of the chapter. Please understand, I in no way wish to minimize or romanticize the trauma that victims of sexual assault go through. That is not what this chapter is about and I do hope that is not how it reads. I agonized about including it here, and I hope I've made the right decision. **

**Please feel free to leave your thoughts, feelings, comments, etc in the form of a review. All opinions are welcome. **

**Cheers,**

***rhymes***


	27. The Statement

**A/N: Ugh, real life sucks. I actually had most of this chapter done last weekend, but unfortunately my vacation is over so it's back to work and back to rehearsals at the theatre, which left little time for writing. I finally got a chance to sit down and get the last bit of this chapter finished tonight!**

**I am so glad that there are still people out there reading and (hopefully!) enjoying this story. Thanks to those of you who took the time to leave a quick review, namely _RandomTVFan, DebbieKun3, 123montana321, bookworm, laurzz, Izzi Creo, webdlfan, Craftygirl11, tryntee13, mckenzie_, and _CTI-Jenn_. I was so worried about how the last chapter would come across, and your more-than-kind reassurances set my mind at ease. My hat is off to you!**

**This chapter picks up right where we left off… and once again we get a little heavy. **

* * *

"Is he okay?" Lindsay asked with no small amount of concern as she watched the bathroom door close behind Antoinette, who had wheeled in a small trolley full of medical supplies.

Mac smiled reassuringly from his seat beside Lindsay's bed. "He'll be fine. Don't you worry. I think you just scared him a little is all."

"I didn't mean to upset everyone," she said quietly.

"I know you didn't," Mac said. "And Danny knows it too. And Stella. We're all just concerned about you, Lindsay."

She raised her eyes, taking in his appearance. "You look tired, Mac," she noted.

He smiled softly, his grey eyes filled with affection for the young Montanan woman who could still be concerned about those around her, even in her current state. "It's been a long couple of days," he admitted tiredly. He frowned when he saw a flicker of remorse cross her face. "But worth every minute if it means we got you back, Lindsay. You're here. You're safe. That's all that really matters. And no one on the team thinks otherwise," he assured her. "Not me, not Hawkes, Adam or Stella. And especially not Danny."

Her lips quirked upward at the mention of Danny's name and her eyes flicked momentarily back to the door. A contemplative expression appeared on her face. The two of them sat in meditative silence for a while, Mac allowing her to quietly process her thoughts. Finally, he cleared his throat to catch her attention.

"Uh, Lindsay," he began gently. "I know there's really no good time for this, but we need to get your statement." She turned to him, her face full of trepidation. "You know how important it is to talk about it while it's still fresh in your mind… as unpleasant as it may be."

Lindsay chewed nervously on her lip. "Can… can I give my statement to Danny?"

Mac sighed and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Lindsay. But no," he said. "He's not working this case anymore. He's a victim here, just like you."

He noticed Lindsay's shoulders stiffen and her chin jutted out defiantly. Apparently she didn't like being referred to as a victim. Mac had to fight the proud smile that threatened to pull at his mouth. _Good for you, Lindsay,_ he thought. _Keep fighting. Don't let Delorsio win_.

"If you want, I could have Stella come back in," he offered. "Or Flack. Or I could take your statement. Whatever is easiest for you."

Lindsay's gaze fell to her hands folded on her lap. "I, um… I remember him attacking me outside the hospital," she said. "He hit that guard – Anderson, I think his name was. And then he came for me."

Nodding, Mac reached into his pocket to take out his notepad and pen. "That's when you were on the phone with Flack, right?"

She nodded. "He took my phone. He… he hit me and I fell. I fell and hit my head on the car, I think. Or maybe it was the pavement. I don't remember." She picked nervously at her blanket while she talked, her voice starting to shake ever so slightly. "Then he grabbed me and shoved me in the car. He used tape – duct tape, I think – on my hands. And then he tried to get my feet…"

"And?" Mac prompted.

A slow smile spread across her face. "I kicked him." She raised her head, brown eyes determined. "Hard. In the gut."

"Good. Good for you," Mac said, jotting down her words in his book.

"He didn't like that," Lindsay remembered. "H-he told me he'd make me pay. And then… I don't know. It gets really fuzzy after that."

"We found chloroform in his car," Mac told her. "Do you remember that?"

She frowned, thinking. "He put something over my mouth; a cloth or a handkerchief. I remember it smelled sweet. And then I woke up."

"You woke up where?" Mac asked.

Lindsay was gnawing on her lip, her eyes faraway. "I-in a room," she whispered. "In a… a dirty, dark room. It was… He cuffed me to the radiator. I couldn't move. I couldn't get away…"

She broke off and Mac could see the panic rising in her. "Hey, hey. It's okay Lindsay. It's okay," he soothed. He wanted to reach out, to put a calming hand on her, but he was loathe to touch her, lest she recoil from him again. "We can stop if you want to take a break."

Lindsay swallowed hard but shook her head. "No. No, I want to get it out. I don't want… I can't stop or I won't want to start again."

Nodding, Mac held his pen poised above his pad. "Whenever you're ready."

She took a deep breath. "He came in and he hit me. He punched me in the stomach for kicking him in the car. And he kept… he kept hitting me. But I-I couldn't… I couldn't get away." Tears began to trickle down her cheeks, but she continued. "He knew who I was. He talked about what happened in Montana… in the diner." She began twisting the edge of her blanket between her fingers. "He said he was going to use me to get to Danny," she said. "He'd been following him… he saw Danny come to my apartment the other night. H-he started to… to touch himself. And he told me… he told me he was gonna show me a good time."

She wiped at her nose with the back of her hand. "He ripped my shirt… a-and he started to… to touch me."

"Where, Lindsay? Where did he touch you?" Mac asked, squeezing his pen nearly hard enough to snap it in half.

She looked away, focusing on the floor. "My breasts. H-he pinched me… he told me I was too old for him, but he was still gonna t-take me because beggars can't be choosers."

Mac closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying as hard as he could to swallow the swell of anger than had risen inside of him. He breathed deeply, trying to calm the torrent of emotions raging within. "Lindsay, I'm so sorry." It seemed so feeble, but what else could he say? "What happened next? Do you remember?"

She nodded, still refusing to meet his gaze. "I threw up on him," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "And he… he got so mad. He got so mad! H-he kicked me. And then he grabbed my hair…" She raised her hand to her head, wincing as she remembered the pain. "And then…"

"And then?" Mac urged. "Lindsay? And then?"

"I woke up. And it was so dark." Her tears were flowing freely now, her breath coming in rasping gasps as her panic began to rise exponentially. "I-I couldn't… it was so small and dark… and I could hear him sh-shovelling dirt on top of me and I couldn't get out… I couldn't get away…"

"Lindsay, we can stop… just… that's enough," Mac said, concerned as her breathing became more and more irregular.

But she wasn't listening. Eyes wide open, she was trapped once again inside that box. Her fingers scratched against an unseen obstacle in front of her. "He was gonna kill everyone… h-he wanted me to hear… just like in the diner," she gasped. "And then it was dark and I couldn't hear anything. I-I couldn't hear and I c-couldn't see… and I couldn't stop it! I couldn't stop him!"

"Shh… Lindsay. Lindsay!" Casting aside his notepad, Mac grabbed her shoulders, giving her a hard shake, hoping to bring her back to reality. "Lindsay!"

She tensed in his arms, her eyes wide with fear. Panting hard, she blinked, her eyes seeming to focus, her surroundings registering in her mind.

"Danny?"

"No, Lindsay. It's Mac," he said before he realized that her eyes were focused over his shoulder. He turned to see Danny standing in the bathroom doorway, his expression unreadable.

"Danny!" Lindsay cried out, her hands reaching for him.

As fast as he could, Danny shuffled the short distance to her bed, sitting carefully on the edge of her mattress and pulling her into his arms. "Shh… it's okay, Linds. It's okay, baby. I gotcha. You're okay. Nobody's gonna hurt you anymore, okay?"

Lindsay continued to sob in his embrace, her whole body trembling. Danny looked over at Mac who had pushed his chair back from the bed, his hands shaking as he picked up his notepad and pen, returning them to his pocket.

"What happened, Mac?" Danny asked, continuing to try and soothe the distraught woman in his arms.

"She was giving her statement and she just…" Mac shook his head. "She said she was okay, but then…" He shrugged his shoulders helplessly. "I'm sorry. I didn't know. I thought that it would help, getting it off her chest…"

Danny nodded. "I think it usually does," he said. "But this… I don't know." He sighed, pressing a tender kiss to Lindsay's shoulder. Her sobs had lessened but she still clutched desperately to Danny, her body still shaking. "Did… did she say… does she remember if… if he…"

Mac shook his head. "No. She doesn't remember."

"Danny?" Lindsay's voice was small, tremulous.

Danny gently cupped her face in his hands, stroking the tears from her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. "Yeah, Linds. I'm here."

"I'm so tired," she whispered.

"I know. I know you are."

Her face crumpled, fresh tears falling. "I can't close my eyes," she whispered, clearly terrified. "I can't… h-he's there. I feel like he's… he's waiting for me."

"Oh, baby," Danny murmured, pulling her close once again. "Oh, sweetheart."

Mac stood there feeling completely helpless as he watched Danny tenderly rock back and forth, whispering words of comfort into Lindsay's ear. He could see her eyes, wide and unfocused as she slowly came out of her nightmare. Shaking his head, Mac marveled at the deep connection of trust and – it was evident to him now – love between his two detectives. Within moments, Lindsay had calmed herself, sitting up and dabbing at her moist eyes with a tissue.

"You okay?" Danny asked, blue eyes brimming with worry.

Lindsay nodded. "Can I have some water?"

"I'll get it," Mac offered. He headed to the bathroom where Antoinette was still cleaning up after Danny's outburst, wiping his blood from the floor and the sink. She glanced up at him when he grabbed a small paper cup from the dispenser beside the shattered mirror.

"Everything alright, Detective?" she asked, placing her hands on her knees and pushing herself to her feet.

"Yeah. It's fine. It's just…" He sighed, reaching for the tap and filling the cup with water. "This is a tough one."

She smiled sympathetically, tossing her soiled rags in the laundry hamper. "Trauma of any kind is never easy," she replied knowledgeably. "Believe me; every time I think I've seen it all, something new comes along and knocks the wind right out of my sails. But," she continued, taking a thoughtful glance at the besotted couple in the other room, "As bad as it seems now, Lindsay seems to me to be a real fighter. And Danny too. They'll get through this."

"I hope so," Mac replied. "I really do."

With that, he returned to Lindsay's bedside and she gulped her drink thirstily. She set the cup aside and gave him a small smile of thanks. His phone beeped and he withdrew it from his pocket, flipping it open and reading the text message he'd just received.

"Well," he began, after typing in a quick reply, "If you two will be alright on your own for a while, I have to get going. That was Adam; he and Hawkes have just returned with our evidence from the Valhalla site, so…" He smiled at the pair of them. "If you need me for anything, you can give me a call. Anytime."

"Thanks Mac," Danny said. "We will."

"Take care, Lindsay," Mac said, gathering his jacket and pulling it on. "And keep an eye on Danny for me, will you?"

She managed an almost genuine smile for him. "No problem there, Mac. He's not going anywhere."

Mac gently patted Danny's shoulder before turning, casting a final backward glance at them before he left the room, holding the door open for Antoinette to follow before closing it softly behind him.

Alone at last, Lindsay turned to Danny, her brown eyes taking in his appearance. She placed a tentative hand on his cheek, turning his face so she could get a better look at the lacerations she'd noticed when he first emerged from the bathroom. She drew her bottom lip between her teeth, worrying the sensitive skin as realization dawned.

"I did that," she breathed, horrified. "I… I'm so sorry."

"It's nothing, Linds. Don't worry about it," Danny replied. "The nurse said it was just superficial. It looks a lot worse than it is."

She turned away, ashamed of herself and her lack of control. "I thought you were him," she whispered, hating herself for having such a pitiful explanation. Her eyes fell upon his battered hand and she felt another wave of guilt rising inside of her. "Did I do that too?"

"No. That was all me," Danny answered. "But you should see the other guy," he chuckled.

"It's not funny, Danny! You're hurt and it's my fault!" Lindsay cried, anger flashing in her eyes.

"Hey!" Danny shot back, taking her chin in his hands and forcing her to look at him. "Don't you dare say that," he growled. "Don't even think it. There is one person to blame for all of this and it ain't you, Lindsay."

"Well it's not you either," she replied, her tone gentler now. She hadn't missed the guilt that had lingered in his eyes since they'd first been reunited. She took his bandaged hand between hers, raising it to her lips and pressing a kiss to his scarred knuckles. "None of this is your fault either, Danny. And I know you… I can see it in you, building up inside. I don't regret anything that happened between us. And I can't bear the thought of blaming yourself."

Danny closed his eyes, leaning forward and resting his forehead against hers. "That's easier said than done, Lindsay," he confessed.

"If I can do it, so can you," she encouraged. "Please, Danny. This isn't going to work between us if we're starting off with regrets. Let it go. It's not your fault."

Danny swallowed hard. He knew she was right. But there was so much he wished he'd done differently. If he'd only been faster, stronger… if he'd had more self-control; if he'd been able to resist the glimmer of happiness that had dangled so tantalizingly in front of him in the beautiful form of Lindsay Monroe… But then again, who was to say how things would have unfolded had their relationship not progressed as it had? It could have been a lot worse. He could have died never knowing the exquisite bliss of her body moving as one with his, her sweet kisses. He would have missed the way she was looking at him now, her warm gaze filled with love; love for him, of all people.

"Okay," he whispered in response. "Okay."

Hey eyes searched his and she nodded her head, satisfied. "Good," she said. She pecked him lightly on the lips. "Now, if I make room for you, will you get up on this bed properly and hold me?" she asked, beginning to shuffle over on the mattress before he'd even had a chance to respond.

"Linds…"

She looked up at him, her expression pleading. "I need you, Danny," she said quietly. "I feel better when you're here; when you're close. I feel almost… safe."

Danny smiled sadly, reaching out to gently stroke her cheek. "I can hardly argue with that, can I?" he replied.

He wedged himself onto the small bed beside Lindsay, leaning back against her mountain of pillows and waiting until she'd settled herself comfortably – well, as comfortably as possible given the size of the bed – before he wrapped her carefully in his arms, holding her close and burrowing his face into her hair until he heard her breathing slow and deepen. Until she slept.

* * *

"Alright, you guys," Mac said, walking into the conference room at the lab. "I want answers. And I want them now." He pulled out a chair and sat down at the long table, his expression somber. "What've we got?"

He looked around the room, his eyes taking in the downcast and exhausted faces of his team. He sighed and leaned back in his chair, scrubbing his hands tiredly over his face. "Look, I know we're all tired, okay? And I know that this case is eating away at all of us. It's personal this time and that makes this one that much harder. But Lindsay… she needs us. She's having nightmares about something that she's not even sure happened. For better or for worse, she needs our answers. And Danny too. So please… just take a moment, pull yourselves together and lets get on with it."

Heads nodded around the table.

"Stella? Why don't you start… you've been over the results of Lindsay's SAE kit with the nurse. What did you two find?"

Stella cleared her throat, reaching for the closed file on the desk in front of her. She took a deep breath before flipping it open and handing out a report to Hawkes, Adam and Mac.

"Um… well, we all know the basics already. She was attacked, beaten… there are pictures there of some of her injuries." Four pairs of eyes filled with pain as they took in the disturbing images of Lindsay's torso, her legs, hands and feet. "There are more pictures of other injuries of her breasts and… other intimate places, but in the interest of preserving her privacy, I've got the only copies in my file."

"Okay," Mac said, placing the pictures face down in front of him before picking up the forensic nurse's report. "Aside from the pictures, what did you find?"

"There, um…" She cleared her throat, taking a sip of water before continuing. "There were no traces of semen either on or… or in the victim's body," she said haltingly, and Mac noticed that she chose to refer to Lindsay as 'the victim' as opposed to by name, distancing herself from the case. "But, um… there was some evidence of recent sexual activity; namely some minor vaginal bruising. Now, the nurse did state in her report that this was inconclusive; it could easily have been sustained during normal, consensual sexual intercourse and that it appeared to have occurred several days prior judging by the healing that had already taken place." She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, clearly uneasy at discussing such intimate details of the sex life of her friend and colleague. "She also noted here that the angle and depth of the bruising supports her professional opinion that this was consensual sex, and that if it had been an act of sexual violence, there would have been evidence of… of tearing and other trauma."

The room was silent for a moment, each member of the team taking time to absorb this information. "Um… so, are we saying that she wasn't… that h-he didn't…?" Adam stammered, fidgeting nervously with the pen in his hand.

Hawkes placed a hand on Adam's shoulder. "We're saying that so far, there isn't any evidence to conclusively say either way," he explained. "Now, what Stella is saying fits with what Adam and I found at the scene…" He opened his own file and began flipping through the pages within. "We went over that room – the one where you found her purse and her cuffs," he said. "We found traces of semen on the mattress, but they were older… not recent enough to have occurred within the past few days. There were other bodily fluids on the mattress, but none of them came back as a match to um… to Lindsay."

"No?" Mac asked, feeling the slightest bit of relief beginning to surge through him.

"No," Hawkes affirmed. "In fact, the only thing from Lindsay we found were a few hairs, both from her head as well as... um, her pubic… area."

Mac pursed his lips, his brow furrowed. "So, the semen… could he have used a condom?"

Adam shrugged his shoulders. "I don't think so," he said. "Me and Hawkes… we tore that room apart and didn't find anything, so then we searched the building from top to bottom – no discarded condoms, no wrappers. I checked the toilet – the plumbing was never hooked up, so he couldn't have flushed it."

"But I did find traces of semen on the inside of Delorsio's pants," Hawkes said, flipping through his notes. "Yeah… but it was weird. Just like the samples on the mattress, the sample was very small and the strange thing is that the sperm count we found in all the samples was very, very low."

"What are you saying, Hawkes?" Stella asked, leaning forward in her chair.

"I… I think that Eric Delorsio was impotent."

"Excuse me?" Stella said, shock evident on her face. "H-how can a rapist be… I mean… what?"

Hawkes shrugged. "Impotency or as it's known medically – Erectile Dysfunction – can manifest itself in several different ways," he explained. "In some men, an erection is impossible or sporadic at best. In others, they can achieve an erection. They just can't maintain it long enough to… well, you know."

"And would this explain the small sample size you found in Delorsio's pants and on the mattress?" Mac asked. Hawkes nodded.

"If he could get it up and keep it up… he wouldn't have been able to produce much ejaculate. It's consistent with what we found at the scene and on his clothes."

"B-but Flack said… outside the building when he shot Delorsio… he was talking about…" Adam grimaced, "Um… 'finishing off' the girls Vanzella raped all those years ago."

Hawkes looked thoughtful. "Well, impotency isn't common in young men. In fact, it's quite rare, so it's possible he was telling the truth. But remember, they never found a trace of him on those victims and the only link between him and them was that he was caught burying their bodies. And even if he did… help -" Hawkes grimaced at his poor choice of wording, "- Vanzella back then, all those years in prison…" He shrugged. "There's not a simple, single known cause for impotency. It can happen for a variety of reasons."

"Interesting," Mac mused. "So… we've got a self-proclaimed rapist who appears to be impotent and no evidence that he ever actually raped anyone…"

"Well…" Stella hesitantly interrupted. Mac, Hawkes and Adam looked at her.

"What is it, Stella?"

"It's just that we're defining rape in a very narrow way. Rape isn't necessarily just the act of forced vaginal penetration by the penis."

"Stella…" Mac's tone suggested that he wasn't in the mood to play guessing games. "What are you trying to say?"

Stella took a deep breath and let it out slowly, collecting herself. "When… when the nurse was doing her examination, she found…" She paused, biting her lip. "She found a piece of torn fingernail in Lindsay's pubic hair. I ran it for DNA as soon as I got back to the lab. It was a match to Eric Delorsio."

* * *

**Like I said, a little heavy. I will remind you all again that I'm no forensic expert, nor do I know much about the medical field. That's just me and a little bit of good ol' fashioned interweb research. So there will probably be errors. **

**That being said, what did we think? I hope you are still looking forward to more from this one, as we're not done yet. Next chapter, I'm hoping we get back to seeing a bit of our not-so-favourite baddie.**

**Until next time!**

***rhymes***


End file.
